A Little Colter Elf
by Cassandria
Summary: An unknown race, an evil spell where will the little Colter's dreams take her?
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

I never found peace in the ending for Frodo Baggins. It does not matter how wonderful, serene, peaceful or beautiful Aman is in our imaginations. To me the completion of life is to have love, to have family, to have children. To feel the joy of watching them grow and to grow old and die in peace knowing you live on in the loving hearts of those you hold to be dear. Frodo could never have that. Being a Hobbit, there was no possibility of finding love in the Blessed Realm. And he was so young, so honorable, so deserving!

He had Bilbo for a while. Even Tolkien said, "– it is difficult to imagine a hobbit, even one who had been through Frodo's experiences, being really happy even in an earthly paradise without a companion of his own kind, and Bilbo was the person that Frodo most loved."1

But Bilbo would not live for long. He was already older than any Hobbit had lived. After he was gone, Frodo would be among Gandalf and many wonderful, loving and caring elves, but he would be the lone hobbit, the lone halfling, with no one to touch, to feel, to hold. I see him healing, living peacefully, but not entirely happy and lonely.

So there I was, writing him a happy ending just to give myself peace. But in doing so I ran into many problems making it all mesh accurately with the story as Tolkien wrote it. And then there was the issue of personalities and how a relationship would actually work, with the trauma he had been through and was still experiencing.

In a letter, Tolkien said, "- it was not only nightmare memories of the past horrors that afflicted him, but also unreasoning self-reproach; he saw himself and all that he done as a broken failure."2

The blackened temptations and desire still haunted him as he entered the ship.

As I worked it all out, I began to relish the magic of Tolkien, writing more and more until it all seemed to fall into place. My pleasure in writing this was so engrossing, I could not stop and in my imagination, the story began to grow with the end result as in the pages you are about to read.

I am not sure if this story will hold true to the dear departed Professor. I tried to follow the timelines and history as closely as possible using details from both book and movie depending on the circumstances and my own personal preferences.

Frodo ends up going through a bit more pain to reach his ultimate happiness, but he got there. And now this story has finally given me peace and contentment so I myself can go on… to other things like the Sil, Unfinished Tales and The Letters of Tolkien. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

1,2 From a letter to Mrs. Eileen Elgar September 1963

**Chapter 1  
The Colter Elves**

They were of the first born, immortal Elves, gifted with beauty and wisdom but tiny with a variation of delight from Ilúvatar's eyes. Colter Elves, they called themselves although all other races of Elves may object to the later part since they are so different. For they are small, unshod and merry like Hobbits; though they did not have large furry feet and kept a slimmer shape.

They began among the Teleri, the Halladur as they called the tall Elves, by the waters of Cuivienen. Their size made them extremely shy around the Halladur, feeling intimidated and unimportant. But they did not leave, for the dark mist of Morgoth had already shadowed the land and they were afraid; hiding much of the time. And it was said that in this time, Ilúvatar's heart was filled with empathy so he gifted them with the powers and skills to be stealthy and furtive and they were called Dolenedhil, (the Hidden Elves) but Colter they called themselves.

Now there came a time when Orome, the Vala came upon the first born and great friendship was bonded even with the Colters. And as is told in other tales the Elves followed Orome, seeking safety in the west on the pilgrimage to reach Aman. But the journey was difficult and fear and weariness of travel stayed the Colters early, for in their small stature, it was difficult to keep up and tragedy had come to a few of them in crossing the great river. They left the march of the Teleri east of the Misty's and settled in a land they came to love; safe and content in the shadow of the mountains, sustained by the abundance of the river. Soon they were forgotten by all who knew of them.

They built a home naming it Carasdolen, (the Hidden City) where they were to remain for many a long age governed by a council of Elders who maintained their position according to age. History and stories were passed down, from generation to generation but they didn't keep any concept of time other than to prepare for the seasons and they recorded nothing on scrolls or in books. They dwelt in their city southwest of the forest of Mirkwood near the western banks of the Great River between the Gladden Fields and Lorien. And for a long time, they lived in peace and safety for Morgoth had abandoned these lands for a time to bring his grief upon other races in Beleriand as is told in other tales.

But with memory of the terror that held them and with foresight of evil to come, they practiced their skills of stealth in readiness. Using the powers with which they were endowed, they placed protection about the city, in a circle of trees for the austere days to come. Outsiders simply could not stumble into Carasdolen, or even find it if they tried for it was built with such care that all creatures even the animals of the region would go far around and never through, never seeing or hearing the life that went on inside. For that was their only defense, to be stealthy, quiet and unnoticed and some may say there was an air of mystery and majesty about the city.

Then came the time when in the changing of the world, evil fled to these lands and the terror returned. Many years of fear and wariness blew upon them. The wild land became full of evil men with creatures such as Easterlings, Orcs, Trolls and wolves; the Colter Elves were not immune to tragedy and at times they faltered. Some were lost and their numbers dwindled, but the city remained hidden and they held their luck. Then hope was kindled as a massive movement of troops marched down the great river to the blackish skies of the Southeast. Men there were and Elves. Glorious they looked in their valiant armor with mighty weapons in hand and in scabbard, their faces grim and determined. And as they marched, their footsteps fell as thunder. The Colters watched from hiding some longing to join them. But peace did not come quickly and their hope faltered as four seasons later a Colter hunter reported seeing the fall of a great King as he was ambushed on the banks of the mighty river. Their fear continued, though in time it lessened until finally all was quiet for many a season.

Now in that time they planned their journey to the havens, but it was a long trek and the memory of their first journey faded under their desire to stay, for their love of home and the river was great. They were content to remain within their own realm for all of life only to go outside for food and supplies as needed. The children of the Colter Elves were kept inside Carasdolen for most of their childhood. They spent much time being taught crafts, but the skills of being unseen were the main focus although much of it came naturally. It wasn't until they were of an age of responsibility that they were slowly allowed to journey outside beginning with the hunters who were entirely male and then those that fished and gathered, both male and female. This was their way of life and their stealthy manner enabled them to remain unknown for so long. For the most part, this was their accepted lifestyle and in spite of it all, they were a happy people. But change was certain to come, and with it good and evil.

Meli stepped out from the trees and saw for the first time the great river her father had spoken of all her childhood. The water was clear but deep and had been partially blocked in this spot creating a great pool with several falls coming and going. The trees were very thick in this area on the banks, but they left a small bit of grassy shore making the place seem to her like a paradise. If one looked closely and deeply enough one could see the Mafer fish that her father often brought home to the table. She could taste the sweet smoky flavor just by the thought of their name. How she had yearned to come to this place for so long, since she had that dream when she was very young. It was short, just of swimming in a great pool. Not much was seen of the surroundings, just the water. But it lit a fire in her for the love of water, and she longed for the day she came of age when she would be at last permitted to leave her hidden home and go with her Father to the river.

She was Melanna, named for 'love's gift' but they called her Meli. She was the daughter of Geren and Linanna, who were not high Elves, but held a respectable position among the elders. They were a simple family who worked hard and enjoyed life and each other. Linanna, who held exceptional beauty, had been offered marriage to the highest Elder. But she followed her heart and married for love, and soon came Melanna, the delight of their eyes.

Geren was an adoring father, but a stern teacher with a quiet manner. It was his patience that was tested most often with Meli, for she had an unquenchable desire to learn the history of her people, which of course no one really cared for or could recall. She was most like her Mother in looks, favoring her almost identically, but not as beautifully for she had more of an earthly air about her. Still she was pleasant to look upon with long, dark brown curly hair. Each strand had a mind of its own and her Mother constantly tried to put it back into place. Her eyes were large and round with deep hues in their color of brown and when she smiled there was a cute sweetness within their depths. And she had won from her father the deepest dimples, one in each cheek. As an only child, they gave much attention to Meli, but it only spoiled her a little for her nature was sweet and kind.

There weren't many Elves of Meli's age, and not any that she was ever close to, for she had always been painfully shy with the others, more than was natural for even a Colter Elf. Although her sweetness won her some attention, she was uncomfortable with it and sought the loneliness of solitude and it eventually became familiar and comfortable. The other Elves thought highly of her with great respect of her shyness, but all held a bit of frustration for they wanted to know her better. Especially young Giliath. He had visions of marrying her someday. His eye had been on her all their lives and his love for her was even deeper than he knew himself. He was the son of the highest Elder of the Colter Elves, an especially gifted Elf in hunting, proud, strong and very handsome, but with one fault. He was haughty and unruly and this greatly annoyed and even frightened Meli. But when he would approach her, she was quietly gracious and polite, for deep within her heart a small fire burned for him that even she was not aware of.

Almost immediately she dove into the water. Her Father called to her, quite startled, but there was no stopping her. He ran to the waters edge, calling her name. When he saw that she was all right he just shook his head, watched her for a while amazed at her natural ability and let her be. The feel of the cool green water made her shudder with delight. Swimming, which was unusual for Colter Elves was as natural to her as walking and breathing. She dove under and came close to see the beautiful pink colors of the Mafer fish shimmer in the sun light that was piercing the water from above. The plants at the bottom tickled her feet and made her giggle with delight and on the farther shore she discovered a rock shelf that she could sit on with the water just up to her chin.

After this day, there was no stopping her and she came to fish every time, but it was never enough. On days they did not come, she would feel almost melancholy, but was careful not to let it show. She worked harder than ever on her crafts and chores for reward of these trips to the river and it made her Mother and Father very proud. But they were even prouder of her when she began to help catch the fish that fed their people. She was careful to only choose the larger older fish as she slipped the net under their fat bellies and brought them up to shore to the astonished smiles of her Father and the others.

How she loved those times, when she could be at the river. When she wasn't swimming and catching fish, she would be soaking up the sunshine and daydreaming. The other Elves her age did not understand her love for the water and viewed the trips to the river as a chore. One day after swimming most the morning, and enjoying a delightful meal her Mother had packed she fell asleep in the warm sunshine on a soft green patch of grass and a dream came.

Like her dream of swimming, it also was short, but as intoxicating as a young maid's first kiss, for that is what it was. On the deck of a white ship, all she could see was the outline of him, his face a soft blue blur but the kiss was as real as if it was now happening and the softness of his lips made her heart warm. This dream was so delicious she fell into the habit of taking a little nap on the grass each time they went to the river hoping it would recur. Of course no one complained since she always caught her share of the fish, and to her delight the dream came again and again.

This went on for a time, but as good things sometimes end; it became more and more dangerous for the Colter Elves to leave their home in search for food. The year was 2941 of the third age. Activity in the Forest of Mirkwood, at the stronghold of Dol Guldur, intensified as the evil spirit that dwelt there grew stronger and began breeding Orcs again. They could be seen time and again roaming the countryside near Carasdolen. Some of the hunter Elves claimed that word was heard of a dragon, although one was never seen in these parts. But the very thought chilled their hearts and the Elders warned all to stay within the confines of their home except the few hunters and fishermen that were older and had more experience in stealth. This greatly upset Meli as her love of the water had grown and her dream only came to her there. She never spoke of it to anyone, not even her Mother with whom she was very close. She felt that she could be just as careful and furtive as any of them. Besides she always brought home more fish than they did. She would often beg her father to let her go with him, but he rarely relented. Therefore, she had no choice but to pass much of her days crafting with the other Elves of her age, a task she now found to be very uncomfortable. She craved her familiar solitude and very soon melancholy began to set in.

Gradually she began wandering off walking the small woods within the confines that circled the small city. She came upon a spot at the southernmost edge where there was a small clearing of green moss around a felled tree and a very small stream. There she would sit soaking her feet in the water and singing soft songs as she daydreamed about the white ship. It became her favorite place, her very own special place to indulge in her solitude and privacy. Occasionally she would fall asleep but the dream did not come again.

Worried by her disappearances, her Mother once asked her where she had been. She had answered honestly, though omitting the part about the dream. After a while, her Mother accepted her desire to be alone and stopped questioning her. In possession of her Mother's blessing the time she was gone gradually grew from a little while to hours.

But this did not satisfy Meli and her longing for the river drove her to risk sneaking out to the river alone. She was gone only a few hours and was never missed. Her skills at being quiet and unseen were keen. Even in the water she was quite successful and managed to enjoy the time with confidence, savoring every moment and every inch of her paradise. She feared to risk sleep though so she did not get to her dream and it left her feeling incomplete. But the short time in the water gave her renewed vigor for life.

Later that same night, the Colters had a dinner celebration for the abundant success from hunting that day. Giliath, being the most successful, claimed the attentions of all. It filled him to overflowing with pride and he decided the time had come to approach Meli regarding their future. It was the season they were to come of age and he was very anxious and very self assured. He knew she would get up to leave seeking solitude as usual and he followed her as she made her way to her favorite place to sit and gaze at the stars. He had followed her before on more than one occasion; though she never knew, for he was very good at being unheard and unseen. He would watch her, listen to her songs and dream of this day playing it out in his mind over and over until he felt it was right.

She began a soft song to her favorite star, high up in the heavens. It was the brightest of all, watching her and giving her, his attention. Giliath listened; inhaling the beauty of her notes, but soon became impatient. She stopped short when Giliath softly slipped through the brush, and stood before her. His black hair was glistening as the moonlight silhouetted his strong body and his smile was warm. "Don't be afraid," he said, "it's only me, Giliath. I was just wondering my Lady, if I could sit with you for awhile? It's very nice out and I would like your company."

Meli felt a little annoyed at his formality and intrusion, but answered politely although nervously, "Well, I guess I don't mind." They sat for a long while looking up and about, neither one really knowing what to say. Finally feeling confident, Giliath leaned closer and began whispering his desires to her. Meli could not help noticing how smooth and golden his skin was. His soft brown, his eyes almost made her heart melt as his long black lashes folded over a sweet smile. Gently and romantically he told her of his feelings and his plans. His sweet manner of delivery would make any female swoon; but not Meli. Never had she felt so frightened and uncomfortable. Old thoughts began running in her mind; why he would want her? She had known all along his feelings for her, but she did not understand, for her shyness kept her at bay and she was never encouraging, never giving him the chance to know her. Often she asked herself, what would life be like with him, but she could not see it. It was as if it was void, and could not exist.

And she could not deny that she cared not for his ways; his complacency, boisterousness and bragging. Yet deep inside she felt there resided a sweet loving soul and once or twice she even fantasized about him in that way. But of late the only thing on her mind was the ship; the wondrous kiss, the passion it stirred in her. She was confused.

It seemed to Giliath it was taking her way too long to respond and he was becoming nervous and impatient. She smiled politely not knowing what to do or say and it gave him the wrong impression. He gently leaned in to kiss her, hesitating for just a moment to savor the sight of her lips and she faltered for just that moment, as desire surprised her. And just as he continued on he missed, for she pulled away, crying "no," and as a frightened deer she ran back to the hall with Giliath running after her calling "Melanna! Melanna!" But she did not stop.

There were two Elves singing a beautiful duet of flowers as Meli entered the hall. Out of breath, she took a moment to compose herself. Seeing her Mother and Father she at once ran to their side, pretending with a smile to be enchanted by the song. Giliath thought it was only her shyness. He had picked up on her moment of weakness, feeling the passion that radiated from her for that very short instant. It gave him confidence and he ran in behind her; determination driving him, as he sat down next to her and took her hand. Her Father looked on and smiled. Now she was caught like a fly in a web! She could not struggle without bringing more trouble upon herself. Her Father had spoken of this many times, telling her that she should marry him, but she would only blush and change the subject. There weren't any other choices really and her marrying well would make him proud.

So for a long while she sat there, her hand in his, not looking at him. And as he held it, she felt his warmth flow through her and for another moment she faltered. Then the thought crossed her mind. "Could he be the one on the ship? The beautiful kiss?" Her shyness began to overwhelm her as she felt her cheeks grow hot and now, even more she had the desire to run but she was no longer sure what it was she wanted to run from. Confusion boiled inside her but frightened as she was, all she could do was listen to the music, and wait for the first opportunity to excuse her self for the night and find the safety of her room.

But Giliath would not let her get away so easily. When the opportunity came and she begged leave of her Parents, he followed her out the door and all the way to her room. It was too much for her and without answering his many pleas she softly closed the door behind her, leaving poor Giliath on her doorstep bewildered and frustrated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2  
The End of Carasdolen**

The next day she forced the events of the night before away from her thoughts for a more enticing need; the river. She rushed her chores, with the water foremost on her mind and with song on her lips. By mid-morning she was done so she kissed her Mother and Father softly and told them she loved them. Her Parents misunderstood thinking her happiness was for Giliath and they smiled at one another with knowing but unknowing eyes. Then she was off, not as they thought to her secret spot by the felled tree, but in reality to slip out of Carasdolen to her beautiful river. 

She swam deep and long savoring every inch of the pool, taking in the colors as the morning sun pierced the water with shimmering rays. But through some unknown power, the dream began calling to her, pulling her, tugging on her heart to come and see. Looking around, anxious to find a way, she found a large flower bush to crawl under. The fragrance of the soft pink flowers gently lulled her and soon she was deep asleep well hidden from any eyes that may come upon her paradise.

The dream was different this time. It began with the ship, a very large ship; enough to hold many and white as the snow she had seen on the mountain peak. It had two cabins, a small one above for a stable at the bow with beautiful stained windows high on the back wall which caught the sun with bright colors. The other cabin which sunk part way below the deck was closer to the stern. A great hall it was with steps at the back of it leading further below to sleeping compartments. She dreamed of dining and singing in the hall with great happiness as the warmth of the fire in the hearth licked her face.

Then she found herself on the center deck with beautiful horses in the stables. There were many beautiful Elves about, but she could not see their faces. All were very tall like the Halladur she had seen in the woods, but she was not afraid. She began to sing, from her heart as the words spoke to Ilúvatar, the creator. There was a tall handsome Elf singing with her. She could not see his face but his presence left her feeling safe and content. As they finished the song she looked up across the deck; and there he was, a soft shadow but still she could not see his face. And without knowing how, she felt she knew him. 

Then the dream shifted and it was dark. Not a fearsome dark, but a soft grey darkness with many clouds. Her favorite star, the brightest of all, was peeking through the clouds high above, watching over her. She turned and once again, he was with her on the bow. They were alone. He approached her, and she could barely see his eyes glistening in the light of the star. He put his arms about her and held her a while. Then he raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. Then once again she felt his kiss, soft on her lips, so sweet and comforting, so familiar as if he were part of her very soul. She was at peace and at home. But she felt tears on his unseen face and tears of her own and it made her wonder.

As the vision faded, she heard a voice from the water, speaking to her, **_"This gift shall be yours, but with cost in much pain, toil and risk. If evil wins all, all will be lost."_** And in her dream, the star shed a single tear and it splashed down upon her in a cloaking light. It felt warm and secure as if to hug her with love and protection. But in sadness, her star was pulled away into shadow and a cold dark crept into her dream; an evil revealed in the form of a great eye, writhing in flame. Then to her horror, she felt as though she was lying upon rock and dirt in pain and fear struggling up a massive mountain. There was a great struggle, but she could not see for the smoke and flame blinded her and the fume choked her. Searing pain came to her and suddenly it cleared just enough to see, and she felt herself fall into the great abyss towards fire. And then darkness consumed her.

With that she awoke. Breathing heavily, she slowly crawled out of the bush and sitting on the edge, of the riverbank, slipped her feet into the water. She sat there long feeling shaken and thinking about the dream. She wondered what events would unfold, what fate would carry her into the unknown enduring pain with the hope of living with love thereafter. Somehow she understood the evil eye was that of the horrible spirit she had heard the Elders speak of in whispers and it made her shudder with fear. Closing her eyes she could once again feel the kiss, the safety of his arms around her and his eyes looking upon her warmly with the tears sparkling on his unseen face. "Were they happy tears?" She wondered aloud. "Was it Giliath?"

Giliath had his mind on Meli all through the night; sleepless he tossed and turned. He had watched her for many years as they grew into full stature together and in time her place in his heart had grown. She had a soft quality to her and when she spoke, his heart lightened, and when she sang, his heart sang with her. His soul was truly hers. He set out at dawn with the pretense to hunt, but really seeking the solitude and peace of the woods. He hoped to think of a way in which he could approach her without scaring her away. But he could not sit idle waiting for game. Frustration simmered in him revealing his impatience as he pondered and paced. The more he thought about the previous night, the angrier he became. His thoughts drove him to further aggravation, "Why did she run? Surly she has known all along my intentions! Am I not the best choice, the best hunter, the most important Elf in all of Carasdolen?" Then suddenly he cried out, "Why must she be so demure?"

Giliath was off his guard and unaware of danger and danger was near. If he had been as furtive as was natural for a Colter Elf, he would have heard and seen, but his conceit consumed him for a moment; he was distracted and overwrought and dangerously so. Little did he know that a band of Orcs had been sent by the evil spirit at Dol Guldur to spy the river and small woods along the western banks to make their way to Moria where they intended to produce weapons for his army. A scout saw Giliath and aware of the keen ears and eyes of the Elves he concealed himself from discovery while watching him. But Giliath in his pent-up mood missed many signs as the clumsy Orc followed him all the way back to Carasdolen, thus learning the secret of entry to the small Elven home.

Quite some time had passed and Meli began to feel nervous that she had been away too long. It was more the disappointment in her parent's eyes that she dreaded than any punishment. She had swam to the eastern side of the river and sat on the bank meditating to relieve her stress. How much time had passed, she had not noticed, but now the sun was sinking low in the afternoon sky. She slipped back into the water for the swim back, then carefully she made her way home hoping her hair and dress would be dry in time.

As she neared the entrance to Carasdolen the feeling of fear grew in her. Her instincts told her to be wary, for something did not feel quite right. Nothing unusual could be seen, but her instincts continued to grow hot with dread causing her to go with much more care and caution. She looked behind her and all around but it was clear and her keen ears could hear nothing. That was the problem! She could hear nothing. Not even her own people who, although generally imperceptible to outside ears, should have been heard by her own ears after entering the gate. There was no one within sight. As she walked along the paths her fear intensified with each step.

At last she came to the door of the great hall; it was open wide and there was no one to be found. Chairs were overturned; food and dishes still littered the tables as if the diners were interrupted during the midday meal. She ran back out and to her Parent's room, but it was empty. Thick dread came over her as she furtively made her way back to the great hall. Slowly, looking all around she walked through the room, overstepping the disarray. She went out the back entrance and suddenly there she saw them, near the entrance to a large storage room. Dead bodies of Orcs and Elves lying in a great pool of blood, black mingled with red! She gasped unbelieving her eyes when suddenly she realized one of them was Giliath! A great, deep wound was seeping from his chest. He was still and peaceful. His brown eyes were open and sad. His quiver and arrows were strewn at his side. His lifeless hand still tightly clutched a single arrow and his broken bow was several feet away.

Frantically, she looked around at the other elves. It was only then that she realized that the other dead elves were three of the strongest of her people. Their hands still clutched their wooden dinner knives as if in desperation they had sought to protect their people against the unanticipated ill that had befallen. She looked over at Giliath. Sobbing, she fell to her knees and cried out though barely able to make a sound. Her thoughts reeled trying to make sense of it. Suddenly, she remembered the secret cellar where they were all trained to hide if the need ever arose. With thoughts of her parents foremost on her mind, she quickly ran into the storage room and flung open the hidden door. Empty. There was no one there. They must have been taken totally by unawares, or perhaps were in hiding elsewhere. Her thoughts reeled, "Where would they all have gone? Adar, Nane!"

She heard a sound from outside. Fear griped her as she quickly hid behind a counter. She was shaking so bad she was afraid it would give her away. Was it Orcs come to cause more harm? Or was it her people coming back to find her? Hope began to swell inside her, but she remained hidden to be sure. Then she heard them. They had the most horrible grinding voices her ears had ever heard. They spoke words that she did not understand that were equally unpleasant to the ears as the voices that spoke them. Two were sniffing the air as if they were searching for her. She closed her eyes and crouched down low. She heard sounds of chopping, breaking, crashing, and smashing! They screamed disgust from their fowl lungs and cried shrilly with hideous laughter. The sounds of destruction pounded her deeply as they tore through the small city as if in sport.

Finally, to her relief, they left mumbling in argument. She sat still for very long afterward. Her limbs ached but she was too afraid to move. Darkness began to shadow the window and the evening was getting cold. At last, she quietly crept out of her hiding place. Once more she came upon the dead lying outside. Gasping for air, as she fought back tears, she saw the destruction that had ripped through her ears. Horror stricken at the shocking sight, she could not believe her eyes. Wearily, she knelt down next to Giliath. The memory of their last moments came back to her and sorrow, intensely deep, crept into her heart; sorrow for his short life and the suffering he must have felt in death. She softly stroked his brow and suddenly she knew; she could have grown to love him.

Danger was still thick upon her instincts and she knew she must leave, but she could not leave the dead bodies exposed and vulnerable to defilement. One by one with great resolve she gently dragged the three great Elves to their rooms and lifted them onto their beds. They were heavy for her, being a tiny female, but her grief and tenacity aided her. Then she sang a soft prayer to each to be at peace and be undisturbed forever. She sealed each song with a soft kiss to each forehead. Each door was closed and each window shade drawn in hopes of no invasion.

Lastly, she took Giliath. Slipping her arms under his, his head gently fell onto her shoulder. Her face against his, she felt the coldness that had seeped into his body and stopped for a moment as a sob forced its way from her heart. She pulled him to his room and placed him gently upon his bed. She covered him with a blanket, then began caressing his face. In a voice that bespoke her grief, she sang a soft prayer for him. When the song ended, she laid a kiss upon his lips, her last tear bathing his cheek.

The thought of the Orc bodies rotting in her beloved home disgusted her. Quietly and furtively, she dragged them out of the circle and far into the woods. As soon as that task was done, she stole away cautiously to the river where she proceeded to wash herself free of the stench of the orcs.

The waters of the river seemed as if they warmed especially to comfort her. Her mind seemed to clear a little although she was still quite in shock. She knew that she would not be able to stay at Carasdolen for the danger was too great and all was in ruin. But where could she go? Her heart's desire was to search for her people. Were they fleeing in hopes of making their way to the havens? Or were they held captive in some horrible, evil place? Or were they even alive? She shuddered with a chill.

When she was younger she would listen to the conversations between the Elders as they planned their route to the havens. They saw no harm in her presence so she was allowed to remain with them while they drew up their plans. Though the conversations greatly interested her, her main motive for staying was due to her desire to be near her father, who was often present at these meetings. Fortunately, however, she had learned a bit of their plans. Her memory recalled something about heading north along the river and then west over the mountains through the pass, Andrath. Hopefully she remembered correctly. They were to go on from there until they came to a place called Imladris. It was said tall Elves, the Halladur, lived there and they were friendly to all but those of evil races, and could offer safe passage the rest of the way.

For now, Meli understood their words too well, of the dangers there would be if that voyage were made. But they were speaking of very many, and she was only one. Perhaps she would have a chance if only she knew the way. When should she turn west? Would she recognize the pass? This she did not know, but there was no other choice; she would have to try. Heading back to Carasdolen she ran through her mind everything she needed to pack. Very softly, taking much time and care she entered her home for the last time in her life. She quickly packed and headed out before the break of daylight revealed her to the world, unaware that night is an Orc's day. A very long journey lay ahead.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

**The Frightening Journey**

Many days passed and Meli felt very frightened. Traveling in the dark for the first few days proved difficult for her inexperience and she worried about missing the opportunity to turn west. In the black of the night she could only discern the shape of the mountain by starlight, for the moon was very new. But even worse, there were many Orcs about. Fortunately, her tiny stature and keen stealth kept her safe. Still, she was in fear, as she continued onward in the dark, with only her favorite star to give her strength. She looked up at it often. It was the only thing familiar to her on this fearsome journey and its sparkling smile kept her going.

She had followed the river north traveling on the western side hoping all the while for a clear sign of when to turn east. But the mountains seemed to loom ever so tall with no breaks or passes to conduct her to the western side. To her it seemed that they crept by so slowly and she felt as though she was hardly making progress. Never before had she ventured so far from home, or so close to the mountains. She had never imagined that they were so tall and fearsome, the very harbor for evil creatures in evil times. Desire to move away from them was growing in her mind. She was torn but she knew to gain the other side, she would have to brave her fears and make the crossing.

It was nearing dawn. The sun was just peeking over the horizon when suddenly she descried over a short distance a band of Orcs heading straight towards her. The land was barren in these parts and there were scarcely any trees and bushes in which to hide. Despite her agitation, she was able to recall to memory the behavior of the Orcs before. She remembered their sniffing; and panic seared through her as she looked for escape. With only moments to spare before discovery, she rushed into the river, endeavoring to make it in safety to the other side. But the water flowed swiftly. Her pack weighed heavily upon her limbs, and she did her best to support it above the water. Struggling against the current with the use of her single free arm, she finally gained the other side; battered and spent. But she was thankful for her love of the water; for the second time, it had saved her life.

Exhausted she frantically glanced around for a place to hide. The danger was not passed as the Orcs approached on the other side. With natural stealth, she cautiously crawled beneath a bush where she rested while waiting for the Orcs to pass. Dread was upon her and she shivered in the early dawn air. From her vantage point, she clearly saw them across the river. The sight of them repulsed her. Never before had her eyes seen such filth and disgust in any creature. She tried to understand the rage they wore; she tried to understand the reason for their senseless maiming and killing. What was their purpose? Was it their fear of the evil spirit that drove them on? Or was it a hatred for other creatures that drove them to fury? She closed her eyes in angry disgust as the memory of their actions recalled its way down her throat. The passion of her rage was overwhelmingly vivid and these were feelings she had never had before. It left her feeling ashamed, vulnerable, and dirty.

Long after they were gone, she carefully unpacked her things to ascertain their condition. To her grave dismay, she discovered that most of her food had been ruined in the water. The only food salvageable was some dried meat and some berries. She had no idea how much farther her journey would take her. Forgetting her inexperience, she scolded herself for her folly; she should have never been foolish enough to pack bread. "Now what am I to do!" she cried in thought.

For many days afterward she plunged on following the river north. Hunger pangs ached within her as her food began to dwindle. Her anxieties grew with each day. The countryside was progressively more barren and from time to time she still saw many Orcs. Off to the east she observed a line of thick trees that stretched all the way along the eastern bank of the river as far north as her keen eyes could see. Realizing the need to travel with cover, she decided to follow that line until she came to a break in the mountains. If need be, the trees and bushes would give her shelter if needed and perhaps some type of nourishment; she hoped to find berries or some other form of food in the forest. But her memory did not recall _all_ the words the Elders had spoken. Unknowing she was heading straight into her enemy's den; the woods where the Orcs roamed.

Little did she know of the dire condition that evil had bestowed upon leaf and branch in this part of the world. Dark it was, almost immediately and that in its self should have been sufficient warning, but thoughts of berries and nuts encouraged her on. For almost an hour, she trudged through the thickness until her instinct finally foreboded ill. Too late, she decided to turn back and before she knew it she was hopelessly lost. She wandered the forest for hours trying to find an escape, until finally darkness settled in so black she thought she had left the world entirely. Then fear crippled her as a thousand shiny eyes kindled. They were everywhere and they all seemed to be watching her. Not knowing if they were animal, insect, or some kind of Orc didn't matter to her; they were all frightening. She hunkered down under a thick bush lying as still as she possibly could, its sharp branches scratching her every move. Needless to say she did not sleep that night, or any other of the many days and nights she spent in that forsaken forest. For even in the day it was dark and fearsome.

She soon lost count of the days and which day it was, she did not know. Her water did not last and her hunger grew into a void so deep that she felt as though she was withering from the depths of her soul. It was so, for several days until one afternoon when she came upon a stream. Black its waters were, but water it was so she drank deeply, not caring of the rancid taste and the bitterness that remained on her tongue. But this turned into another mistake, for the water left her drowsy and confused, impairing the stealthy abilities that had kept her safe thus far.

Utter fear overwhelmed her. She wandered aimlessly for the better part of the day; her fears increasing with each hour. Suddenly she heard loud cries, screaming and great crashes like a mighty battle was being fought very nearby! She sank to her knees under a tree covering her ears as if not hearing would protect her somehow. But the screams and cries pierced her and her imagination panicked. She froze unable to move, her body quaking. The terrible racket lasted for hours until finally it died down. Utterly exhausted but still terrified she soon fell into unconsciousness and knew no more for a long while.

Now of all the foul creatures that roamed the forests depths, whether it be luck or fate; the one and only creature to find her was the kindest soul ever to walk that forest- Gandalf the Grey. The kindly old wizard, the one and only soul in Middle Earth who knew the location of the Colter Elves. Meli knew him well for he had visited them often.

His business complete, he was leading his horse on foot through the thickness, when from the corner of his eye, he beheld a strange sight. His eyes rose up in great alarm as he pondered the mystery before him; in all of Middle Earth what had happened that a little Colter Elf ended up _there_! He carefully picked her up and laid her on the horses back. "Do not drop her for she is too weary to hold on," he instructed the animal and then slowly he led the way out of the forest to safety.

That night, under the bright stars, and the warm glow of a campfire he gently raised her head, and placed to her lips a cup of broth from a rabbit stew he had made. The aroma stirred her senses and she awoke. At first, in disorientation, fear gripped her heart until she realized it was he. "Gandalf!" she cried weakness quickly overpowering her. She was too weary for words or tears, but his eyes comforted her and his presence reassured her.

"It's okay Meli, I am here." He said with great concern. "Tell me child, what has happened, why are you out here in the wilderness? Where are your people?"

"I don't know" she sighed with grievous heart, "they were all gone when I got back from the river; all except, for four who were dead." She coughed as if choking on her grief and Gandalf quickly gave her a drink of water.

"Slow down now, breathe deeply" he instructed.

After a moment she was calm enough to sit up and continue. "I had to get away. They were everywhere. I was looking for Imladris. Gandalf, please tell me, what are they, those awful creatures?" Her voice betrayed her confusion. She had entirely forgotten the warnings she had grown up hearing about Orcs and Goblins. Her voice diminished into a hoarse whisper. "They killed Giliath, and three others!"

Gandalf was overcome with sorrow upon hearing this news. He knew too well of what she had spoken and he replied in great disgust. "Those are Orcs from Mordor. But you need not fear anymore, dear Melanna. They are gone for now." In his mind, however he thought of them; "Evil servants of the dark lord Sauron that had been occupying Dol Guldor in that forest. Yes, they are gone now, although too late for her people I fear." Now more than ever, the realization that Sauron had anticipated the assault was great in his mind. The ease of the operation had been too seamless. The White council's decision to oust him had come too late.

"Here Meli," he said, "Drink more of this broth. You will feel better in the morning." She did as he encouraged and drank to her fill. She even ate a little bread, savoring each morsel. With complete trust in Gandalf, she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

She dreamed of her life with Gandalf. For many years, he had come and gone from Carasdolen bringing warmth and council to her people. He had often times sat with her and the other children telling stories of old. There were even times when he would laugh and play in the grass with them as though he was young. At other times he was like a great big, lovable old Grandpa. He would sit and listen to her speak of her interest in the history of her people, offering information and his comments with respect and wisdom. In time, like the other Colter Elves, she had grown very fond of him.

The next morning they woke with the sun and prepared for travel. Meli was still very weak and could not eat much of the breakfast Gandalf had given her but her vigor was renewed by the sight and feel of the horse. She had never seen one up close before. He was a gentle horse and he knelt down to nuzzle her as she stroked his head. "Does he have a name Gandalf?" she asked.

Gandalf smiled, "If he does, it was not told to me. He belongs to my friend Beorn and will soon want to go home where he is surely missed. We must hurry. He placed her up on the horse's back, jumped up behind her and rode off to that far off place he had spoken of so many times- Imladris, or as he sometimes called it, Rivendell. He then foretold, "There are many tongues in this world and you will delight in the knowledge of each."

The ride was far but swift. Meli wondered why Gandalf was in such hurry, but his only answer had been that he had pressing business. As they neared Rivendell, her fear returned. She trembled at the thought of meeting the large elves, whom she imagined to be merry with song, but still they were not her people. How her life had changed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Arrival in Imladris**

Gandalf and Meli arrived in Rivendell in the evening upon a warm yellow sunset. There weren't many elves about and it was almost quiet. A soft song could be heard coming from a distant doorway accompanied by the remote thunder of the foaming waterfalls; its effect was calming on Meli's nerves gently lulling her for a bit. But her adrenaline flowed fiercely upon the first sight of an elf; for he was as big as Gandalf with keen grey eyes that seemed to know all time. "Where is Lord Elrond?" Gandalf urgently asked him.

They were led to a great hall vibrant with music; it was the Hall of Fire, as she later learned. Entering the hall she stood close behind Gandalf's robe, in her hopes to remain unseen. But there were many pairs of eyes gazing at her with an obvious look of amazement. She cowered inwardly, wishing herself elsewhere. In the next moment, she heard Gandalf introduce her in the Colter tongue with a voice of pride as he gently pulled her in front of him. "Lord Elrond, I return to you out of need. I told you before of the Colter Elves. This is Melanna, daughter of Geren and Linanna."

Elrond smiled. It had been long since he heard the words of old Sindarin, but his memory knew them well. Warmly holding out his hands to her, he said, "Well, Melanna, welcome to our home. What brings you here?"

Almost with panic, she looked up at Gandalf; she silently appealed to him with eyes pleading and he quickly came to her call answering for her in a gentle tone, "Her people have disappeared, work of the Orcs I'm afraid. By some miracle, she escaped." He looked down at her with an expression of compassion, "I found her lost in the forest of Mirkwood, very far from her home."

Elrond knelt down to look in her eyes and he gently said, "I am very sorry Melanna. We are here for you, in your time of need and sorrow."

Perceiving her discomfort and shyness, Elrond quickly ordered preparations for her accommodations. She was soon alone with Elrond and Gandalf in a cozy room. The soothing hum of the falls gently massaged her nerves. They talked for some time about the events that had changed her life giving her advice and words of encouragement. Elrond promised to send out scouts to try to discover the whereabouts of her people. Thereafter, they left her to comfort; she had been provided with food, a warm bath and a comfortable bed.

She arose early the next morning and to her delight, Gandalf gently tapped on her door. Over a light breakfast they talked only of pleasant things. It was not long before she discovered that Gandalf had also come to say his farewell; he was leaving Imladris that morning. "Like I said before, I have pressing business and must get back to it."

It was hard for him to see the fear and disappointment on her face. But she affected a brave front and re-assured him that she would be fine to which he was respectfully grateful. He hugged her and gave her many wise words of advice and understanding, hoping to ease her pain. It was one of the hardest things he ever had to do; he knew she was shy and scared. However, she reminded him that this place had been her destination even before he found her.

"I will be okay," she said half trying to convince her self of this. He was gone before mid-morning. All she could bear to do that day was to sit in her room, reflecting upon her life to come and what it had been.

It was late afternoon when Elrond appeared at her door with a tray of food, some wine, and words of hope to comfort her. She found him to be wise, compassionate, strong willed, and very easy to talk to. He even made her smile. Eventually he was able to draw her out, introducing her to the other elves and getting her involved; she was taught to read, write, and speak the common tongue.

Still, on the most part, Meli's life in Imladris was lonely. Most did not know her language and she lacked self-confidence. She always hid whenever anyone new came in and spent all her time alone, swimming, or discovering books in the library, learning more of the common tongue, the new words of Sindarin and even a little of the old language of Quenya. Her greatest interest became the history of Middle Earth and she read with astonishment of the many struggles that had prevailed between the many races and Morgoth during the First Age.

She never connected fully with the other elves, although they all thought of her as sweet and kind. They had often scolded her for her love of the water, yet she knew it was out of concern for her safety; for they were not as strong swimmers. They feared for her because of her small stature. Nevertheless this did not prevent her from slipping out anyway. She had found the pool during her first days in Imladris; it was as if it had called to her. She was exploring the woods along the river away in back of the great houses. There was a place where a tree and many rocks had fallen creating a large pool in the river. Ivy and thick green grass covered everything in lush green. It was very similar to her spot near home and she was able to find peace and serenity. To her delight, the water was much deeper and there was much more to see and explore.

The elves rarely saw Meli, for she spent most of her time at the water and in the library. Due to her shyness she was not close with any of them except Elrond. She looked upon him as a father, although they did not spend much time together other than an occasional discussion of her readings from his library. He always had warm comforting words for her regarding her people. Through his kind words, her hope was kept alive.

"Perhaps they made it to the havens" he said one day. "You may go when your time comes with safe escort." But she knew that time had not yet come and she must wait, for her dreams continued to come. 

Dreams of the white ship and a new dream had begun almost immediately upon her arrival in Imladris; it foretold of an unknown dread. There was nothing to see in this dream, only a message, but without a voice and without words. It was more likened unto a feeling of caution and wariness, _warning_ her not to interfere with fate. Somehow she knew its meaning, but did not understand why. It was quite unsettling. She longed for understanding, and asked Elrond for council.

But he advised to follow her heart, "The gift of foresight can sometimes feel a burden, but to deny such warnings will only make matters worse." And she knew in her heart what she must do; she must wait.

One night, lonely and longing for something familiar, she set out for a walk braving the darkness. To her delight, she discovered her favorite star was still there up in the sky just as it had been from home at Carasdolen. It's funny," she thought, "how some things stay the same, no matter where your fate takes you." She wandered over to her favorite swimming spot by the river and sat down, slipping her feet into the water. It was cool, but she did not mind. She lay back tucking her arms behind her head and sang her soft songs to the star; its familiarity comforted her.

Time passed on for Meli much the same way for many years. She watched people come and go from the great house of Elrond, always hiding but ever listening and waiting for the unknown.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
A Wound in the Dark**

Meli found her own special place in the library. Sitting at the great tables was too uncomfortable for her due to her size, so she found a nice corner between the bookshelves. She kept a soft cushion there, a lantern and a small blanket to make it cozy comfortable and spent much time there engrossed in the words. Much like it was in Carasdolen, her timidity continued although she now had spent many years among the elves of Imladris. There were a few she had day to day relations with when she helped with chores, but still she was a loner even taking her meals to her room, or to the library to eat as she read.

For chores, she sometimes chose cooking and her favorite elf to work with was Adreal. She was a young elven maiden, outgoing, and pretty. Meli found her intelligent and interesting to talk to, but most of all, she admired her interpretations of the books they read. She had a beautiful voice and they often sang together often as they worked; but Meli's shyness kept the relationship at bay. They didn't see each other too often outside of the kitchen.

There were some that Meli was too timid to meet, but found interesting to listen to, and naughty as it was, she would eavesdrop on them. Like the Ranger that came and went often; Aragorn was his name. He was a man, the first Meli had ever seen. He always had interesting news of the places he had traveled to, like the far south and the Shire and many more. His appearance was not so fair, for he was well traveled and weatherworn; revealing the dangers he faced in the wild. But Meli's instincts told her underneath the stubble and dirt, he was a good man, handsome, warm and wise. When he was around, she had a feeling of virtue and compassion- a feeling of greatness, almost.

Another she could not resist spying on was the most beautiful maid Meli had ever seen; Elrond's daughter, Arwen Undomiel. She wasn't around very much until the later years; she spent most of the time living in Lorien with her Grandparents. But when she came to Imladris for visits with her father, the laughter and singing through out the home became lighter and much merrier. She was like a shining star to her people and Meli spent hours just admiring her and longing to be brave enough to speak with her, but never daring to. She had a shimmering glow in her eyes whenever Aragorn was about and Meli giggled softly when she saw them steal away together. It always made her think of her dream. It made her yearn for love's eyes, soft touch, and warm kisses.

Powerful and strong, was Glorfindel with the golden hair; he was Elrond's greatest warrior. When Meli first laid eyes upon him, he seemed mysterious and full of history. And to her surprise she found passages referring to his name in the library. She read that he had fought in the Battle of Fornost, exterminating the Orcs from the kingdom of Angmar. He had become a notorious hero when he fell in battle with a Balrog of Morgoth in defending the city of Gondolin. In listening to conversations she heard speculation that he had returned from the Halls of Mandos, determine to fight evil to its very end. The very thought of this made her shutter though with respect for this hero. But then she heard that he had simply been named for that great warrior; it would never be known for sure. For it was said the great Elf had no memory of an earlier life and no family to confirm it. Whenever he was about, she would watch him in awe believing in the adventurous stories and then she would steal away to the library to read them over and over again; always closing the book with greater respect for him.

Elrond's sons, Elrohir and Elladan, so brave, dark and handsome; were providing the safety for all with their ever watchful duty. But their size and intensity for life frightened Meli tremendously. When they spoke to their father about events of their travels she listened with the intent of learning. But often it brought her much fear and later, when the mood was dire, she avoided them completely as if it would help to keep her safe. But there were times when they showed their playful lighter side. It was the one thing that would draw her out and into the great hall for songs and tales. She would sit alone in a far corner watching with amusement as they dueled musically or challenged poetically. And then when all were exhausted from unending laughter, the twins would steal away with Adreal and one of the other fair maidens.

One who enticingly drew Meli's attention was Nilde the healer. She had tended the wounded from the Last Alliance when men and elves last fought together against the evil of the world. Though she was of the oldest, you couldn't tell unless you looked into her eyes. Plain, light brown they were, but they exuded a sense of enormity going far beyond the depths of time. Her smooth face, set upon high cheekbones and her straight brown hair was always perfectly plaited and in place; unlike Meli's curls, which were untamable. Nilde loved to share her stories with all and these greatly interested Meli. Especially the ones that told of the fall of Sauron, the adventure of those days and the merriment they enjoyed after.

Then later in years, to her delight another small person arrived; Bilbo of the Shire had come to dwell his last days in Imladris. A Periannath he was in the tongue of the Halladur, but Hobbit he called himself and Meli was tickled by the sound of that name. He had the curliest hair just like hers and the most magnificent furry feet she had ever seen. He had visited Imladris before, but many years prior. It had been a short visit and she barely remembered him for her fear and shyness had been greater then. Now he was here to stay and Meli delighted in his size and much enjoyed his poetry and songs although she continued to be too timid to greet him.

She would furtively find an unseen place to sit and eavesdrop on them all, knowing it was wrong but unable to resist. She learned very much in that way of songs and tales and the goings on in Middle Earth- more than many other elves. Sometimes she would surprise Elrond with her wisdom and insight. But she was always careful not to say too much or carelessly let on that she had been listening to private conversations.

It was in this way that Meli found out about the Orc attack on the Mirkwood Elves. The year was 3018 of the Third age. Evil was again stirring in the world. Fear and recall of the attack on her own people had begun to worry her. Her sleep was filled with visions of the dead Orcs whose black blood had stained her beloved home. It was the memories of the dead elves and Giliath's face that began to bring foreboding and sorrow to her nights.

Then two months later she learned of the nine servants of Sauron who had come down in hot pursuit searching for a little Perian. It was said he had in his possession a great burden of which she did not understand; a Ring. The thought of it left her in more fear. In concern, she spent much time listening to conversations, sacrificing her time spent in the water, although it was growing too cold to swim. She longed for Gandalf at this time because she didn't understand and was quite concerned by the look in Elrond's eyes. But she knew better than to approach him on it, knowing he would not want to frighten her with the details.

It was at this time the unsettling feelings of warning became stronger. They filled her nights with restless unquiet, the caution and wariness, warning her not to interfere with fate. But it did not come with words; just a feeling. She sought comfort in her dream of the white ship. That place of peace and safety in his warm arms. But then memory of the words she heard so long ago would invade her comfort. **_This gift shall be yours, but with cost in much pain, toil and risk. If evil wins all, all will be lost._**

The pain and toil was now very heavy upon her heart. She knew it was near and that she must not interfere. But the risk is what worried her most. Somehow she knew her dreams were bound together and she longed for the beloved kiss on the white ship. She lay in bed at night unable to rest, feeling the weight of the warning upon her thoughts. Deep worry had entered into all the hearts in Imladris and most did not understand it, but its thickness was very obvious to all.

One night she got up and dressed deciding to go in search of her star near her favorite swimming place. He was her constant and knowing companion; he gave her comfort when she sang her truest feelings. He was a light for her in the darkest places of her life.

She slipped her feet into the water, but it had grown too cold to bear. Her cloak was warm but there was still a chill about her and as she lay in the grass she began to shiver. She began a soft song to her star; she sang for a long time with the hope of rekindling the warmth it gave her many times past. She closed her eyes to sing the last note when suddenly searing pain tore through her shoulder as if she had been stabbed. She cried out but no one heard for the sound of the falls had enveloped her scream and carried it far from the houses. She grasped her shoulder as the pain intensified and to her alarm found it was bleeding. Swooning and swirling overwhelmed her mind and then total darkness took her.

When Meli awoke she laid still for quite some time wondering where she was. She did not know what had happened, or how long she had been out. There was nothing for her to do but try to make her way back to her room reeling with pain. She contemplated with concern what it could have been that had stabbed her. She had done nothing but lay there in the grass and had seen nothing, for her star was very bright. She might have thought it just a bad dream if it weren't for the sharp reminders of the pain that caused her to stagger as she walked.

Finally she made it to her room, unseen by anyone. They were all at the great hall, consoling each other with song at this time of disturbance and fear. Thoughts began running through her mind of the scolding she would get for being out at night. She decided to not say anything. She was safe now and it would draw attention that she did not want.

She peeled off the shoulder of her dress and found a cut that was slowly oozing blood. She grimaced as she cleansed it and packed it with clean cloth wrapped tightly around her shoulder. Carefully and in pain she managed to cleanse the blood from her dress with the water in her basin. She discarded the water into a plant on her balcony. Then swooning she lay on her bed and slipped into a discomforted sleep.

She slipped in and out of consciousness all through the night; pain and a deadly chill that was gradually growing down her arm and side intermittently disturbed her sleep. When morning came she awoke to a sweet aroma and the pain and chill were somewhat lessened in her arm. She grew curious of the smell, but was too weak to stand and investigate. Soon sleep took her again with dreams of grief and unknown sadness. In the early evening she began to worry that the others would come to look for her but the pain was growing again. She did not think she could manage to stand long enough to dress, much less hide it. But no one missed her. It was common not to see her for days due to her shyness and solitude.

Things continued much the same until early the third day when hunger and thirst began to weaken her. She knew she must eat soon, or she would continue to grow frail. Fatigue kept her moving slowly; as she dressed, it was quite difficult and painful. With care, she combed her hair and placed a long cloak about her shoulders; she was ready to face the others.

Slowly she walked carefully, hugging the walls until she was outside. The sunlight was warm for an autumn day but it was invigorating to her. Carefully and furtively she made her way to the great hall; she staggered but it was unnoticed by the others. There were several elves enjoying some food and softly talking around a large table, but they paid Meli no notice. She managed to place some bread and apples into a pocket then she turned to go back outside; but she unexpectedly met Adreal at the door. 

"Good morning Meli!" She sang. "Good morning Adreal" Meli said as she kept walking; she wanted to get away without much notice. But Adreal had loved singing with Meli, and had done some writing the night before. "Where are you going? I was hoping we could…my, you are not looking so well this morning, are you okay?" 

Fear pulsed through Meli but in a cheerful voice she said, "I guess I didn't rest much last night. I stayed up too late to read. I am going to go back to my room now to rest some more. But don't worry, I'm fine, really." "Oh," said Adreal disappointed. "I'll see you later then." Adreal accepted this easily knowing the nature of her friend.

The food did much good for Meli and she slept most of that day. But by nightfall she was shivering with cold, even though she had managed to build a fire and her blankets were thick and warm. The days to follow were much the same. Some days she was too tired and weak to get out of bed. But others she felt better and managed to sneak in for food. In this way she was seen just enough not to be missed and careful enough not to let on that she was hurt.

Occasionally, she would be haunted by some unknown fear that she did not understand. The pain and weariness never left her and it was difficult hiding the fact that her arm was completely useless. But she managed to hide it all; her natural abilities at being stealthy aided her. The feelings of warning were ever present in her heart and she was afraid to reveal her situation.

As the days went on things were much the same. She wondered with agony if she would ever feel better, for the wound was now closed. Then late one afternoon as she was lying in her bed a great fear and hatred filled her body. She trembled with thoughts of shrill blackness pulling at her, commanding her to come into the dark. Sudden urgency came over her and her breathing began to grow heavy and deep. She felt as though she was flying like the wind and escape was impossible.

This went on for what seemed like an eternity when suddenly it all stopped and a feeling of defiance enveloped her. She cried aloud, not knowing from whence it came. "By Elbereth and Luthien the Fair, you shall have neither the Ring nor me!" She was amazed at her words and her good arm reached high with the fist clenched tightly. Then suddenly her arm fell and numbness overpowered her entire body. To her horror, she could not speak or make any sound. Her heart was throbbing inside her and with every breath, fear and amazement overwhelmed her. Her eyes darkened with visions of black horses rushing towards her and she thought that evil had come to carry her away. She heard a tremendous roar like a flood of water. Then an overpowering sensation of falling and drowning dragged her into darkness and she knew no more.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6  
A Heart Awakens**

Four days later Meli awoke. The room was empty but the shears on her balcony were open and the sunlight was warm on her bed. The sound of the water outside was soothing and she felt better than she had felt in a long time. She sat up listening; she wondered from whence came the goblet, plate of cheese and bread that were resting on a table next to her bed. She noticed a cloth draped over her basin with her comb lying next to it. Unconsciously, she brought her hand up to her hair; it felt soft as though it had just been combed. Climbing out of bed, she took a piece of cheese and nibbled on it. She walked around the room silently amazed at how well she felt. Although she was still quite weak and her shoulder was still sore, most of the feeling had returned to her arm and hand.

The door opened and Adreal walked into the room. Meli was quite startled as Adreal began scolding and guiding her back into the bed. "Meli, I am so happy to see you are awake! But you must get back into bed, it is much too soon for you to get up. You gave us quite a scare my little friend. Now come on."

Meli was dumfounded. "How long was I asleep?" She asked. Adreal guided her to the covers and replied, "Well I don't really know. I found you two days ago. It had been so long since you came to cook with me that I became concerned. You were talking quite a lot in your sleep and I could not wake you. It frightened me, so I brought Nilde to help you."

Fear and warning surged through Meli's breast and she cried, "What did I say in my sleep?" Adreal eyed her curiously, "Well, you kept saying things about a dark fear and a chill that was within you. Nilde insisted that it was the result of some kind of spell and I wanted to alert Lord Elrond. But she wouldn't let me. She said he and Gandalf were too busy with that little Perian that came in wounded."

Meli sat up suddenly, "Gandalf is here?" Adreal nodded patiently, "Yes, but as I said, they are preoccupied now with this dark business and Nilde said we should not disturb them."

Meli fell back onto her pillows a new fear and weariness overwhelming her. Wracked with worry she thought, "What is this feeling, this fear?" All of the events from the moment she was stabbed to present flooded her memory. Her mind reeled, "Perhaps Nilde was right. Maybe it was some kind of evil spell. But from whence did it come and why me?"

She thought of her dream so long ago at the river and longed for Gandalf or Elrond's council. But with that thought, her instincts once more warned against revealing anything; she felt so alone. Seeing the shadow cloud her face Adreal ordered, "You get some more sleep now. I will sit with you for a while." She took Meli's hand and began to caress it. Her lovely voice was soon raised in a soothing song, which made her eyes of green glisten like warm crystal. Lulled by her melodious singing, it was not long before Meli succumbed to a comforted and peaceful sleep.

When she woke later that evening she felt much better; more warmth had returned to her arm and hand. Adreal was gone, so Meli quickly washed and dressed; she feared that Adreal would come in and scold her back into bed. Her bath had invigorated her and she longed to be outside again. The sun was settling into dusk and it gave its last flickers through the leaves. As she stepped out the smell of the autumn evening air engulfed her senses. It filled her with thoughts of summer and soft green grasses with dandelions under her bare feet.

Nearby, she heard mingled voices and one suddenly shouted, "Hurray! Here is our noble cousin! Make way for Frodo, Lord of the Ring!" But a familiar voice immediately silenced the speaker, "Hush!" he cautioned; as he had spoken her heart jumped within her breast! It was Gandalf! She wanted to run into his arms, but the strange voices kept her at bay. Cautiously she crept around the corner and hid behind the tall bushes. Instinctively, she remained secluded, but her glance soon discovered several openings in the shrubs that allowed her full view of the Hobbits.

It made her happy to see other creatures her own size and she wondered if she would ever be brave enough to meet them. She giggled softly as Gandalf continued to scold and the littlest one shot back with a remark about singing. But in reply another Hobbit spoke with laughter, "I feel like singing myself, though at the moment I feel more like eating and drinking!"

His voice was smooth and sweet. When he turned she saw his face. In the first second, he seemed so familiar to her that it prompted her to search her memory for a name. But in the next, she remembered she had never seen any other Hobbits in her life before Bilbo. As she stood entranced by his person, a passionate and intense wave of desire seized her. Time seemed to stand still; as she watched him, a thousand thoughts flew through her mind and her eyes could not leave him.

Her heart pounded as her eyes continued to trace his wonderful face; his sweet smile was already emblazoned upon her heart and his gentle manner already cherished by fond memory. Dark curly hair softly surrounded big, blue eyes that were so bright that they enchanted her with the desire to kiss his brow. She faltered for a moment and grasped a branch. A rush of fear gripped her as the branch rustled beneath her touch; it would not do to risk discovery, but she was powerlessly glued to her spot; she could watch him forever. Ardent feelings roared within her and she felt as though she was dreaming. Yet, there he stood just several feet before her and a sudden rush of happiness deluged her.

They were speaking of a merry feast when suddenly the bells started ringing, summoning all to the great hall. Meli stayed where she stood for a few moments after they left thinking about him and all that they had said. She was filled with wonder as the words spoken by the smaller Hobbit flooded her memory; he had cried "Make way for Frodo, Lord of the Ring!"

"What did he mean by that and why did Gandalf scold him?" she thought. "Frodo. That must be his name." She smiled warmly; she loved the sound of his name on her lips; she repeated it several times to her pleasure. "But what would he have to do with all this dark business and the Ring?" She frowned; the feeling of warning once again invaded her heart and happiness.Suddenly it dawned on her that he had been the one who came in wounded! Immense sadness seized her. "What could have happened to him?" She whispered.

Just then Adreal came around the corner and startled her. She had never allowed herself to be caught off guard before and it made her uneasy. "There you are Meli. What is the matter? Are you feeling okay? Maybe you should go back to your room."

Meli composed herself with a smile, "I amalright Adreal. Thank you." Then it occurred to her all that Adreal had done and it touched her deeply. Smiling she took her friend's hand, "I do appreciate your help. You have been most kind. I don't know how I will ever repay you." Adreal tenderly reciprocated her smile and informed her in a voice warm with candor, "You just get better my little friend. I miss my singing companion. Now let's go get some food." Meli smiled and nodded.

As they walked to the hall, Meli asked, "Adreal, there are other Hobbits here that I have never seen before. Who are they and what brought them here?" Adreal answered, "They are relations to Bilbo. They are here on some dark business and one, Frodo Baggins, came in wounded. I really don't know much about it. But all the elves are joyful tonight for he has recovered. I suppose we'll learn soon enough."

A small tear moistened Meli's eye as her many emotions swelled within her. Distraught that he had been wounded, relief that he was now okay. Just the simple sound of his name sent her emotions into a whirl. She repeated his name in her mind. "Frodo Baggins." The memory of his face elicited her heartfelt smile and she carefully brushed away the tear that had silently fallen down her cheek so Adreal wouldn't notice.

But Adreal's next words alarmed her, "I am sure the others would also like to celebrate _your_ recovery. I should tell them to include you in their songs. And then I will introduce you to the Hobbits."

"No!" cried Meli as panic smote her. "Please say nothing of it! I couldn't bear it!" Adreal laughed, remembering her little friend's shyness. "Very well, I will not say a word." But it was not only the shyness that drove Meli's words so swiftly from her lips. Fierce feelings of warning filled her mind as she walked.

When they entered the dining hall, Meli immediately spotted them. She sought his face in the group and wrestled with an unrelenting desire to observe him all night; but the warning she felt grew stronger. She chose a spot in the farthest corner of the room that hid them from her view. Adreal followed close behind teasing her about her timidity.

They ate in silence while listening to the conversation around them. None of it was intelligible to Meli, whose every thought was bent on Frodo. She couldn't see him from where she sat and it gnawed at her. When the evening meal was finished, Adreal suggested that they join the rest of the gathering in the Hall of Fire for song and poetry. It was uncommon for Meli to concede to such a suggestion, but on this night, her emotions were too energized to deal with the solitude of her room. Adreal's companionship and warmth was appeasing a lonely void that had been ever present since her arrival in Imladris. On that night it was far more intense than the timidity that had kept her alone through the years.

Again Meli was careful to sit in a secluded corner; it was unseen by most in the room. Adreal warmly humored her by consenting to her wishes. Just as they were settling down upon some cushions Nilde joined them. "I see my medicine did you good my child." Meli blushed; she bowed her head to Nilde and gave her hand in a show of respect, "Yes my Lady, I am very grateful that you came to me. I have admired you from afar and I am now very pleased to finally meet you, although I wish it hadn't been in this way."

Nilde smiled as she motioned for her to sit down on the cushion next to her. Leaning close to her, she softly said "I am pleased to meet you too my dear; but tell me, where did you get that scar on your shoulder? I suspect it has something to do with the spell that almost took your life. And what was that all about? Do you know?"

Meli grew very flushed and fear raced through her. She quickly glanced around to determine if their conversation could be overheard by anyone; she was satisfied that as far as she could tell, they had their privacy. She searched Nilde's eyes hoping for the wisdom that would explain her strange experiences. Then she looked at Adreal who was listening attentively to what was said; she seemed very much interested in hearing her response.

Meli still felt the warning but now with Nilde and Adreal it wasn't so strong. Perhaps she could trust in them. She felt so lonely.

"I don't know any more than you do, my Lady," she said softly. Adriel leaned in closer her head cocked to hear the whispers. Her straight brown hair fell like a curtain, blocking out Meli's view of the many elves around them. It gave the little elf confidence to speak candidly. "It was the queerest thing. I was lying on the grass, by the river, gazing at the stars when I felt a stabbing pain. Yet, I was alone! There was no one there!"

Immediately Adreal wanted to scold Meli for being out at night alone, especially in these evil times. But seeing the wariness in Meli's eyes, she held back. Still she could not hold her tongue completely and therefore asked, "Why didn't you tell someone, Meli?" Nilde looked at her with the same question in her eyes. Meli longed to divulge all, but fear stayed her tongue from saying too much. She sighed in answer, "I don't know, it is a feeling that fills me with dread and I get this _intense warning_ in my heart." Her eyes pleaded with them, "We must not tell _anyone_ of this. I am so afraid."

"Very well" said Nilde, her eyes impenetrably bent upon Meli as though reading her thoughts, "We shall keep this between us for now. There are dark shadows over the world these days and dark is the evil that smote you. But I feel your warnings are more of goodness, than darkness and evil." She put her arm about Meli's shoulders and held her for some time like a mother would a frightened child.

Adreal sat on her other side and held her hand. Meli felt warmed. It had been many long years since she had any physical contact with anyone. Memories of her mother filled her soul and she was comforted. They sat there for a while, listening to the song and poetry, consuming the beauty of the words and notes that filled the great hall. It calmed Meli's fears and allowed her heart the freedom to focus on Frodo.

Later that night, unable to sleep, she stood out on her balcony enjoying the cool air. She was thinking about the first moments she saw Frodo. In spite of all that had happened, great happiness settled sweetly in her heart. But questions needled her, "What is he like? How did he become involved in this dark business with the Ring?"

Her knowledge of the One Ring held imprecise details from various conversations she had heard. But it frightened her, for she had heard enough to know its darkness was truly evil. She shuddered and quickly dismissed it from her mind, preferring to focus on this new happiness that filled her.

As she stood on the balcony, her gazed was drawn down to the bridge below; two solitary figures stood silhouetted against the pale moonlight; it was Arwen and Aragorn. Even from the distance of her balcony, it was obvious they were in love. She thought of them and how they had been over the years. She never really understood, until now the wholesome beauty of that emotion. "Frodo" she said aloud. It made her yearn for that completeness and softly she began to sing:

**_From darkness I understand the night _****_Dreams flow a star shines Ah! I desire Evenstar Look! A star rises out of the darkness The song of the star enchants my heart Ah! I desire! _**

O mor henion i dhu  
Ely siriar, el sila  
Ai! Aniron Undomiel

Tiro! El eria e mor  
I 'lir en el luitha 'uren  
Ai! Aniron…

She sang in Arwen's tongue with words for their sake, and the words were soft from her own heart. Her voice flowed like velvet over all of Imladris and in sweetness it settled gently upon the bridge. And for the two, who stood there, enraptured in the sweet exchange of their ardent love, the music and the moment moved them to embrace and their lips touched in a long and passionate kiss.

Meli sighed; desire filled her heart and her thoughts were filled with longing. "If only I could meet him. Maybe tomorrow this other business would be decided and he would be done with it. Then if I could muster the courage…" She sighed, "How? Maybe Adreal can help me. But…what if he doesn't like me?" Once again, the stifling timidity took hold.

Then it dawned on her; why she hadn't thought of it before? She did not know, but now it hit her like a wave of wonder. Was it Frodo in her dream? Needless to say, she did not rest very well that night. Although happiness was pulsing through her, the fear and warning was ever present in her heart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

**In Council**

In spite of her restless night, Meli was up bright and early the next morning; she felt quite well physically. As she quickly dressed, all her thoughts were on Frodo. Soon she went out onto her balcony to look for him. But he was no where to be seen. She lingered for a while absorbing the beautiful surroundings; she would never tire of them; it seemed as though she was seeing the world anew; its beauty astounded her. The morning sun was warm, the gentle breeze fresh and soothing, and the song of the falls played in perpetual melody. The smell of the dew-moistened leaves brought many years of memories to her heart; it made her sigh. Never before had she felt so happy, yet so frustrated and frightened. What would this day bring, she could not foresee it, but it left her feeling unsettled.

She decided to go down for breakfast but she felt that she must be very careful not to be seen. It was more than just her timidity that cautioned her and it was frustrating. Fortunately, as soon as she was ready to depart for breakfast, Adreal came bearing a tray of food. "Oh, Meli, you are up already. I think you still need to rest, especially after your wanderings yesterday. Your shoulder is healing, but you gave us quite a scare. I'm afraid there is more to your injury than we know, especially with these feelings of warning you are experiencing. Perhaps later today will be a good time to inform Lord Elrond about what happened and ask his advice."

With these words, Meli was seized by sudden fear and anxiety; however, she managed to smile sweetly thanking Adreal for her concern while assuring her that she was alright. "There is no need to worry Lord Elrond with this." She said calmly. "He has enough on his mind. Besides, I'm fine now. Please don't worry! I will try to take it easy today." With that, Adreal seemed satisfied with her explanations and allowed it to be so; she reminded her that she would be in the kitchen if she needed anything. As soon as she was gone from the room, Meli released a heavy sigh.

She sat down to eat and had barely touched her food when she heard a bell chime. This was unusual, but well known that it represented the gathering of a council. Her curiosity was aroused and she could not resist the urge to listen. She already knew the perfect spot for she had used it many times. It would shield her from discovery while also providing her with the advantage of hearing all that would be discussed. Quickly and quietly she made her way to the library. There was a narrow balcony with an elaborately ornate rail just off the eastern side of the house that overlooked the porch where she had first seen the Hobbits and Frodo the night before. It had thick curtains on each side of the opening and there was just enough room for someone small to sit well hidden in the corner between the curtain and the rail. There was a large potted plant that also gave her cover and from this spot she had full view of everyone on the porch.

But her gaze was drawn only to one. Seeing him again brought new tremors to her heart; it felt as though every good feeling imaginable was encompassed in that one moment. _Memories of her dream surrounded her and she wondered if it __was__ Frodo, who was to hold her on that ship. _She longed for it to come to pass, to _feel the tenderness of __his__ touch, to inhale the vividness of __his__ scent, to gaze into the softness of __his __eyes. _Yet his mortality made it all seem impossible.

There was no doubt for her that the dream was indeed foresight, and not just a lonely maid's silly fantasy. _D_eep down in sudden realization, she knew Frodo was tied to the warning she felt, and her star's words were a premonition of the things to come. She recalled a passage she had read in the library about foresight and she felt a new aching in her heart. _**Foresight is a gift that may or may not come to pass. We still have the means to shape the world.**_

Elrond began by introducing Frodo to the council and as he did Meli emerged from her reverie to attend to his every word. As he spoke, she suddenly felt different. It was a feeling she had experienced from time to time after she was stabbed. It felt like the presence of an additional layer of emotion, within her. Like a blanket layered upon another blanket. And she could divide the two, as though two hearts resided within her. At this moment, she was nervous and did not know why. She dismissed this feeling thinking that she was mentally placing herself in Frodo's place; in front of all those grand people.

She watched his face as Elrond introduced the other members of the council; she was equally amazed at the variety of persons representing all of Middle Earth. Some were notorious, of which she already knew; she had read or heard about them; the others she had never heard of.

The discussion continued mingling historical information with new information; Meli learned much. Many things astonished her; the discussion revealed a great deal and the pieces of the puzzle slowly began to fall into place.

There was a man that greatly interested Meli. She had never heard of him before, but had read about the lands of which he came. His manner was noble and his words stirred emotions that she did not fully understand. Boromir was his name; he was handsome and honorable, but his frustration and pride surrounded much of the discussion. He had come from afar and was seeking the truth to a dream. But when the dream and its purpose were revealed she was besieged by unspeakable fear; she wondered what fate would now befall Frodo.

_**Seek for the Sword that was broken:**_

_**In Imladris it dwells;**_

_**There shall be counsels taken;**_

_**stronger than Morgul-spells.**_

_**There shall be shown a token**_

_**That doom is near at hand,**_

_**For Isildur's bane shall waken **_

_**And the Halfling forth shall stand.**_

The last words of the dream echoed in her mind; _**'…and the Halfling forth shall stand'**_! There were many other surprises that morning and some were also new revelations of great magnitude to many of the council. When Boromir spoke of his quest to find the truth, Aragorn stood casting broken blades upon a table, revealing to all his true identity. He was a descendant from the line of Isildur, the Kings of men! His face wore a look of humility and pride. Meli was awed by his disclosure; she also noticed the awe on Frodo's face and to everyone's surprise he suddenly revealed his possession of the One Ring, declaring forthright to the council that it belonged to Aragorn.

As Gandalf told Frodo to bring forth the ring, Meli suddenly was struck with shame and fear. She trembled as she grasped the rail. A loathing came over her, a feeling of possessiveness. She wanted to hide something! She watched Frodo and saw that he too was trembling as he held up the ring. It was the look on his face that brought forth the notion- she was feeling i his /i feelings! "But how could that be?" she thought. She dismissed it as only her love for him and her pity for his situation.

The council continued telling stories of old and new, explaining events and giving personal accounts. When it was Frodo's turn to tell of the events he had experienced on his journey to Rivendell, again Meli felt nervous. She felt as if all eyes were upon her instead of Frodo. Again, she dismissed it as nervousness for him. She imagined how it must feel to stand up and speak among all these grand people. But as Frodo told his incredible tale and the telling of certain events affected his emotions, Meli found hers to be affected as well. Once again, the presence of an additional layer of emotions was evident; layered over her own blanket of emotions which weighed heavily within her. Her fear for him, her desire for him and her profound relief for his safety overwhelmed her.

Intense debate on what to do with the evil Ring governed the council; Meli felt the frustration deeply. There seemed to be no answer save one- to destroy the Ring in the only way possible. It must be taken to the very fires from whence it came- the depths of Mount Doom.

Now there was a dwarf among the council; Gimli was his name. Meli had found much interest and delight in watching dwarves over the years. Gloin, Gimli's father had always been her favorite. Their mannerisms were gruff, tough and strong. It did not surprise Meli when Gimli suddenly stood in pride of his strength and aimed his axe at the Ring. But as he struck the Ring, intense pain seared through her body as if he had struck her! She grasped the rail gasping for air, fearing she would reveal herself. Her eyes looked upon Frodo and she saw he was also in pain. Sweat was prickling upon her cheeks as it was on his. He held his head in shock as he eyed the Ring with disbelief. There was no doubt- Meli was feeling the emotions, and the pain that Frodo was feeling!

"How could this be?" She cried to herself. As the council went on, the debate grew more heated until there was a full-fledged argument. But Meli's attention was centered on Frodo and the Ring. She could hear it! The Ring was whispering, mumbling words she did not fully understand! Shock was on Frodo's face and tension was mounting until suddenly and unexpectedly he jumped up and shouted "I shall take it!" Everyone stopped and looked at him in disbelief. "I shall take the Ring to Mordor, though…I do not know the way."

Meli fell back against the window frame, shock and fear inundating her. She repeated over and over in her mind, "No Frodo, no Frodo!" Tears were pouring down her cheeks, and now she knew why she had the warnings, and why she could not interfere. Suddenly she knew what the voice had meant with the words; _**this gift shall be yours, but with cost in much pain, toil and risk. If evil wins all, all will be lost.**_

Now she knew why she could not meet Frodo. If she yielded to her greatest desire, she was also taking the fate of Middle Earth into her own hands. Was it right to stop the possibility that he could succeed? She thought about all that had been said. There really was no one else who could be trusted with this task. Frodo had already proven he had great resiliency to the Ring. Would anyone else fare any better? Nilde's words came into her mind "…I feel your warnings are more of goodness, than darkness and evil." Meli closed her eyes tight, a deep sigh rising within her and she knew in her heart the warnings were of good. Then it struck her, the realization of what the risk was; that she may never get to meet him, and she may even die with him.

Immediately after the council, she went to the library. She had to find answers. It had to be a spell of some sort. There was no other explanation. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks. Raising her hand to her shoulder, she felt a small twinge of pain as she slightly pressed the scar. She wondered where it had been that Frodo had received his wound. Was it on his shoulder as well?

She poured over books all that day and into the night; she was interrupted only for a small while when Gandalf and Elrond came into the library. She had remained hidden in her corner as they spoke. "I think I should go with Frodo." Gandalf said. To her delight Elrond agreed and they spoke a little about the dangers and the direction they would take. But no decisions were made and the conversation continued.

"I am pleased that your medicine helped Frodo so well, but as I said before he will carry that wound all his life," declared Gandalf. "The Witch King will not forget his failure and will continue to seek Frodo. Who knows what he may have in store ere the end." Meli's heart pounded softly in her corner when she heard these words. 'It was the Witch King that stabbed Frodo!" she thought. She felt crippled by her helplessness. How she longed to see him again; how she longed to hold him. Thoughts of the ship carried her into a daydream and she imagined what it would be like to comfort him. Once again, the question came into her mind, "is it really him? Is it Frodo in my dreams?"

It was late that night when she found a passage in a book that told of the war between Arnor and the Witch King of Angmar. Meli had read many of its pages years before, but her memory of it was insignificant. She did remember some: the Númenóreans had fought with him for 700 years until the downfall of Arnor when King Arvedui fled north and perished in the Ice Bay at Fornost.

But her learning was renewed as she read that the Witch King was evil to the very core and pride was his most fierce trait. She stumbled upon a passage searching for the word "spell". It stated that the King was obsessively distraught when men recovered from the wounds received by him. In his anger and iniquity he forged a new sword that was embossed with a spell he fashioned and he engraved on its hilt in the tongue of Morgoth these words as shown in the common speech;

_**No being that survives lesion from this blade, **_

_**Shall escape the fate that I have made**_

_**Of injury, grief, toil, and pain**_

_**Of hatred, anger, loathing; my bane**_

_**Shall be felt in thy love all the weary days of life, **_

_**Until death brings end to my strife!**_

Meli dropped the book in disbelief. She thought long about the words, but could not see a way in which they applied. Frodo had never even met her. How she wished it were true, but the fact was she was not his love. She read on for a while, her obsession tugging at her; at the end of the next chapter, she began reading of warnings written by the elven author.

He said that as long as the Witch King still exists, ever a danger of Morgoth's evil would befall Middle Earth. "For evil does not know time" it said. She stopped and thought for a moment of how the evil of Morgoth had endured through his servants long after he was sent into the void. She nodded to herself in agreement when sudden realization overcame her; seeping deep into her thoughts. In her mind she repeated the words "…evil does not know time!"

She stood up dropping the book; her hands covered her mouth. Her mind raced, "This could explain it! This could be the very reason I am feeling Frodo's feelings now! This must be how I received that injury!" But she still needed proof, although in the back of her mind she wanted to cry out for joy! Memories of her dream vividly touched her. Would he someday love her? Was he truly the one in her dream? Was it foresight? Her reservations kept her from jumping too fast to conclusions. She must seek council.

Out in the crisp night air, she wrapped her cloak about her to conserve her warmth and hide the book. Clouds half veiled the stars and the faint smell of rain drifted in the atmosphere. She crossed the patio where the council meeting had been held, and memories of the past day tugged at her emotions with all their variety. This day would be well remembered by her for the rest of her life.

Never before had she felt so determined; her shyness was suppressed. With much bravery for this little elven lass, she gently knocked on Nilde's door. Nilde was awake, sewing some stockings when the knock came. She cautiously opened the door; for this was an exceptionally unusual occurrence, to receive a visitor so late.

"Meli!" She said startled and unbelieving. "Come in, what is it dear?" Meli suddenly felt afraid, but she plunged on since she felt that Nilde was trustworthy; she was also very much in need of advice. "I need to speak to you my Lady, if you don't mind. I know it is late, but I must talk to someone!" She slowly went over all the events of the day; she was embarrassed during the telling of some parts where it was revealed that she had eavesdropped on the council. Nonetheless, in her mind her disclosure was necessary. She showed Nilde the book, and reminded her of her warnings. She told everything, even revealing her dreams and her feelings for Frodo. It felt wonderful to finally unburden her soul; she knew she could trust Nilde. When she was done, Nilde sat back in her chair thinking for a while; her deep eyes appeared very distant.

"We must tell Lord Elrond of this." She said softly. "No!" Meli immediately cried, surprising even herself. "Not yet anyway. Remember the warning? I have a feeling Nilde, a strong feeling of warning. We must not interfere with the quest. If we tell Lord Elrond, he will tell Gandalf and then Frodo will find out, and then," she hesitated "I couldn't bear to have him refuse to go on my account. What if he is the one who can destroy it! Oh Nilde, I do not want him to go. I fear for him to the very depths of my heart! But I cannot stop him. It would not be right!"

Nilde looked into her eyes; she understood and nodded. Meli continued, "I must have proof of this. Can you help me Nilde? We must see if anyone saw the blade. If there were Morgul etchings on it, and if they could describe its shape, we can compare it to the book and then we will know for sure!" Nilde nodded in agreement. "Yes, I will help you my dear. I'm sure I can think of a way to inquire about it with the right people. I can use the excuse of learning for my medicine. Lord Elrond and I have shared much with each other in those matters." With that, they bade each other good night and retired.

For Meli it was a long sleepless night and when she awoke the next day she felt exhausted. She realized that it was not only her own emotive turmoil that she was experiencing; Frodo's emotive blanket saturated her feelings with fretful anticipation of the quest. She spent most of the day resting and thinking, her mind weaving through all of the events. She ate little and occasionally would gaze towards the door, begging a knock to sound forth from Nilde's hand. But it wasn't until late afternoon when it came. Nilde came into the room with seriousness in her eyes as she explained her method of questioning Lord Elrond without revealing her true intent.

"Frodo was stabbed in the left shoulder just as you were." She said as Meli grimaced with remembrance of pain. "It seems the Witch King dropped the sword after he stabbed Frodo and they brought it back here." "That's wonderful!" Meli quickly said, but Nilde held up her hand and continued. "Well there wasn't much left of it. The blade melted when Aragorn picked it up off the ground. Then they melted the hilt here."

Meli dropped down into the chair heavily with a sigh. Nilde smiled at her, "But I was able to get a pretty good description of the hilt from the smithy." Meli's face lit up as Nilde said she had told him she needed it for recording history. "He said it had some etchings on it and he remembered them well because he was afraid to touch it because of them. He had to use tongs to drop it into the fire."

"Here, he drew an outline of the shape." She handed the drawing to Meli who immediately opened the book to the marked page. It was a near perfect match. She slowly looked up as Nilde said, "I guess you can't get much more proof than that." As she spoke those words it dawned on Meli that she would in a way be going on this journey with Frodo.

"Dear child," said Nilde in a gasp as if she had read her mind. "Whatever fate befalls that little Perian, you shall endure also. We must tell Lord Elrond. He must know!"

"No Nilde, not yet! Please! Let me tell him when the time is right." pleaded Meli. "How do we know? Frodo may be our only hope. Would _you_ risk all of Middle Earth to save just two? If he can do this, we all will be safe. There is no other way." With this, Nilde finally agreed; she promised to tell no one until after the Fellowship left.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 **

**A Silent Farewell**

The next two months passed much too quickly for Meli and she kept to herself more than ever. Adreal accepted Meli's absence with remembrance of the warning and was kept quite busy with the care of the guests. Elrond and Gandalf busied themselves with the quest at hand in such detail they were oblivious to their surroundings. All the other elves were preoccupied with worried preparations, assisting the Fellowship in every way they could.

For Meli, just to have the chance to see Frodo again was intoxicating; she naughtily spied every chance she had. She was cautious as ever not to reveal herself, as the warning within her throbbed. Out of respect she left him to his privacy when he was alone with Bilbo. However, when he was out with the other Hobbits she could not resist. It gave her the chance to get to know him. She watched him in the Great Hall as he sat with his friends listening to the tales and poems told. His manner was gentle, sweet and kind. Occasionally he would share in comment, or quote small verses. He had an artistic quality to him, he seemed very intelligent and with every moment, she loved him more.

One night she sat in a far corner behind many elves in the great Hall, completely captivated by the sight of him. She had just enough view to frame his face and she watched him intently as they heard the lay of Beren and Luthien told in full by the melodious voice of some elven bard. In her heart she understood the doom of Luthien's heart as she heard the call of Beren. "Tinúviel! Tinúviel!" Meli watched Frodo's eyes as those words were spoken and she immersed herself within them, her heart whirling with passion. She ached with sorrow that she could not allow herself to be seen. Now she understood Luthien's choice, accepting the fact that she may also die. The aching throbbed within her as she realized that she could die alone, unknown to the one she loves.

As the warning within her remained ever present, she continued to be very cautious and stayed hidden, even around the other Hobbits. She avoided Gandalf, for she was sure he would be able to see right into her soul. Luckily, he was so pre-occupied with the others, and busy planning the quest, he did not even miss her. She was not offended; she understood that dire conditions could be very distracting.

It was late afternoon, the day the Fellowship planned to leave. A cold blanket of cloud had slipped over the mountain peaks from the west and had settled heavily into the valley. The wind picked up with a swirl every moment or so, lifting leaves in flight back into the trees. Meli huddled under her blanket in the library corner with a thick book covering the floor before her. The Hobbits were just outside on the patio while Gandalf and Elrond were pacing back and forth in conversation.

Meli's interest in what they were saying peaked when she heard Gandalf say to Elrond, "Where has Meli been? I have not seen her at all and I wish to say farewell to her."

Elrond answered him saying that she was "around". He had just seen her awhile ago leaving the kitchen.

Softly, as if great sadness filled his heart, Gandalf said, "Well, I guess I'll have to go search for her. I can not leave without saying good bye."

The way he said it touched Meli's emotions and she wondered if he foresaw something. All day a dreadful feeling had been gnawing at her and she knew Frodo was feeling that doom, as well. To hear Gandalf speak in that way brought greater fear and grief into her mind.

As he left the room she slipped out carefully so that she was not seen by Elrond. She furtively followed Gandalf down leaf laden paths into the swirling grey cold of winter chill. Above, the clouds billowed low in silent threat and the wind found every means to steal its way beneath her garments. She held back until she felt he was far enough away from everyone; in a safe place to talk. The wizard walked to the back of the house searching the path that he knew she liked to roam; then he made his way through the trees near her swimming spot.

"Gandalf!" she cried, running up from behind.

"Meli," he said kneeling down. "Where have you been hiding?"

She smiled at him warmly and hugged him as she answered, "I did not want to get in the way…with all of this serious business about." Her smile quickly faded as she said, "I know you are leaving tonight. I had to say goodbye. I fear for you Gandalf! You and the rest of the Nine Walkers! Please tell me you will all come back!"

Feeling her distress, he placed his large hand warmly on her cheek and spoke, "Yes dear Meli. I will do everything in my power to hold the Fellowship intact, and return to all of you here in Imladris." His words were reassuring without letting on that he felt there was little hope. He envisioned her when all darkness would reach Imladris and he sighed wearily.

"I must go now Meli. Lord Elrond will continue to watch over you. I," he paused and looked at her curiously as if he felt there was more in her eyes than he knew. He then chose his words carefully, "I feel happiness in your future, Meli. A happiness very great, if we should succeed. From whence it comes, I do not know. Carry us in your thoughts and we will do well from the thoughts of all who are good." With that, he hugged her warmly and left as if in a hurry.

Meli's heart lightened with his words. She followed him, remaining out of sight until they reached the side of the house. She thought to follow him further, to look for Frodo, but suddenly she felt she needed to lie down for a while. Weariness came over her. She knew it was Frodo's anxiety and it made her wonder what he was thinking. Did he regret volunteering for this? She wanted badly to run to him crying, "Don't go!" Not for herself, but for him.

Back in her room, she slipped into a soft sleep and her dream came to her once more. The ship, white as a cloud, was gently rocking on the water and again she was in his arms. But she still could not see his face. It made her wonder in dreams if it _was_ Frodo. Now her heart was sealed and she could not imagine herself in any other arms. Yet Giliath entered her mind and she felt her heart divided. He felt so cold and she wept onto her pillow as her dream brought remembrance that he was gone. Then comfort came to her as Frodo's warmth pulled her and his eyes drew her closer, until, finally, she slept, peacefully wrapped in her love for him. And it was only he that she remembered when she awoke.

As the sun began to fall into setting, she woke with a start. Fearing she had overslept and missed the farewell she jumped out of the bed. Then, to her relief as the grogginess faded, she found that she still had time. Washing her face, she gazed at herself in the mirror. Her gaze faded into sadness and she thought of her Mother.

"What would she think of all this?" She wondered aloud. Shaking all thoughts but Frodo from her mind, she quickly dressed. She could feel his anxiety mounting as time grew nearer for departure. Silently she stole her way out to the gate to secretly farewell the nine.

She stood in the shadows under the trees near the gate. Her fear and nerves were quaking within her. "Oh why did you say you would do this?" She asked him with her thoughts.

All was quiet around the Last Homely House of Elrond. The mood was somber and the thickness of the sighs could be felt deep in the throat. Meli desperately needed comforting but she was all alone. So quietly she sang a song of encouragement, willing all of the words to be heard only in his heart.

"Believe and you will find your way," and she reminded him, "A promise lies within you now". She believed deep in her own heart that he could do this and she prayed that he believed in himself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 **

**Into Darkness**

Time generally passes very quickly for elves, for they are immortal and have long life that reaches beyond the span of time. However, for Meli the time following the departure of the Nine passed slowly. She found some days to be especially toilsome feeling the weariness Frodo endured while traveling the rough terrain south of Imladris. Other days he seemed stronger and she used this time to do something she was not accustomed to do. With the events that had happened she now seemed to have less fear of the other elves. Perhaps the fear seemed insignificant compared to what she may be facing. Or perhaps, it was being in love that made her put her shyness aside. She began to join in on the conversations and gentle songs that were sung in these dark times.

She even gathered enough courage to finally meet Bilbo, anxious to speak with another who loved Frodo. Bilbo delighted in her size and was very disappointed that he had not been able to introduce her to the other Hobbits when they were there.

"Frodo would have been very pleased to meet you my dear!" He would often say.

Then to Meli's delight, he would talk for hours about Frodo and his childhood. Meli absorbed every word and it fed her love and when he was done she would smile and offer to read to him.

He especially loved the way she read his book, an honor very few had ever been granted. And as she read his tale of the Battle of Five Armies and experiences of his journey, an understanding came to her of the awe that Frodo held for the elder Hobbit. She articulated the drama with passion but when she came to the part about the finding of the Ring, her reading became soft and emotive. Bilbo's regret for Frodo was evident and his suffering from the effects of the Ring became obvious. It was in this time that within her heart grew a deep fondness for Bilbo as she comforted him; he became family. But she did not tell him about her love, the spell, or her wound. These things, she kept wrapped deeply within her only to share with Nilde.

One day, she was sitting with Bilbo in the Hall of Fire reading to him, when slowly she began to feel cold. It was winter of course, and it was not warm outside, but in the great hall the fire was always burning and it was generally very warm. As the day progressed into evening she slowly became colder and colder. At first she put her cloak on. Then she found a blanket, but it lent no better comfort. Her chin began quivering and she could no longer read. Finally, she apologized politely to Bilbo and excused herself; quickly running from the room as he stood up in alarmed concern.

As she stepped out into the night air, she became so cold she ran all the way back to her room. When she arrived, she threw open the door with anticipation, but to her dismay, the fire had gone out in her hearth; and her room had an icy chill to it. Shivering and desperate she filled the hearth with wood as full as she could; stacking and restacking as the wood tumbled out onto the floor. Then with quivering fingers she lit the match and the fire tickled the wood slowly. She took all the blankets off the bed and one by one wrapped her body snuggly. By the time she sat down, the blaze was finally beginning to catch and she scooted in front of it as close as she could possibly get.

Meanwhile, Bilbo alerted Adreal and when she came to Meli's room to check on her, she found the little elf shivering uncontrollably in front of a blazing fire!

"Are you alright little one?" She cried as she took Meli into her arms.

Meli could not answer; her jaws were locked tightly in an attempt to control the cold. Quickly Adreal filled a teapot from Meli's pitcher. The water boiled rapidly as the fire roared furiously. Once prepared and the hot tea in a cup, Adreal helped her to drink it. But still, Meli could not get warm. Sweat was streaming down her face and trickling into the blankets, yet her skin as cold as ice. The tall slender elf was now at a loss and unsure of what to do.

Adreal cried out in a panic, "This is the work of an evil spell! I must find Nilde!"

She turned and ran out of the room and within no time Nilde was by Meli's side. They prepared for her a bath, steaming hot and scented with cinnamon. Nilde shook her head with dismay as she pulled the soaked blankets off the little one. They helped her into the tub, clothes and all, hoping they would aid in retaining the warmth. But she continued to shiver and though her skin turned ruby red from the heat, the water seemed to make her colder.

Nilde paced in reckoning, smoothing her blonde hair in pondering thought until she turned slowly towards the little elf in total despair. She proclaimed sadly, "There is nothing we can do for you Meli." The elder elf looked upon her with pity.

"I…I know," Meli managed to say, "Pl…please, go. I will be alright."

Nilde saw that her eyes said much more than her words. With that she said, "Come Adreal, we must leave her alone to her privacy."

Adreal glanced at her in shock, but obeyed without protest. And as they left the room, her worry was plain upon her face and she could not take her eyes away from Meli.

It was only a short while; Adreal could not stay away. She returned, though she felt totally helpless. She wrapped a large blanket around the both of them and held Meli all day, hoping to pass some of her warmth to her. She passed the time singing soft melodies as the little elf slipped in and out of consciousness. There was a moment, in fact two, during that time when suddenly unexplained warmth and strength came back to her but they were short lived.

Weariness set in, as Meli's legs began aching. Hunger began nagging. Adreal brought her hot soup, kept the fire going and massaged her legs. Still, the little one found no relief. Finally, the cold slowly began to pass, but the exhaustion remained. And though she said nothing of it, Meli's worry was focused on Frodo with very little for herself.

She slept much, fitfully, waking with an unknown fear off and on. Adreal was in the cushion chair sleeping from her own weariness when late into the night Meli's emotions reached a peak. Frodo's fear grew fierce as it mingled with Meli's fear for his life and she thought her heart would fail her. Her gasping woke Adreal. She was sitting up in the bed heaving heavily and biting the covers as she was trying to get control of herself. Adreal grabbed her and held her close until after a time the fear slowly subsided.

Finally the shock became too much for Adreal, she could no longer hold her tongue. "Meli, what is going on? These are strange and evil things happening to you! I know you know what it is! I see it in your eyes! I didn't want to know at first, but this is really beginning to frighten me! I don't know how to help!"

Meli said nothing for a few moments as her breathing began to slow. Finally with relief that Frodo was alright she began to feel better.

"Yes, it is a spell. I am sorry…I do not want to speak of it now." She said softly and, as her friend reacted with great emotion Meli bravely said, "Do not worry Adreal. I will be alright."

Unsatisfied she cried to Meli in disagreement, "You must tell Lord Elrond!"

"Yes" said Meli trying her best to calm the young lass. "It is time. I will tell him as soon as I can."

She rehearsed it over and over in her mind, changing her words in many ways. Meli could not find the courage or the opportunity to tell him.

He was quite involved with his own worry, spending much time in study and meditation. Many elves were leaving for the Havens of Mithlond to take to the ships to Aman and he was bent on sending his daughter, Arwen, beyond the sea as well. But Arwen was in love, holding onto hope and she refused to go.

Meli felt there was more to this than she knew. She knew this grief was heavy to bear for Elrond and she pitied him for his pain. So she put it off; she did not want to bring more grief to the man who had fostered and loved her for so long.

The next day passed with better comfort although as the day grew Meli became tired and weary. She took her evening meal again in her room for privacy, with Adreal and Nilde checking in on her occasionally. Meli was able to hide the intensity and shoo them away so not to burden them any further.

The night was growing old and a still blackness hovered over the land. Suddenly Meli awoke with the feel of an evil chill on one foot. Uneasiness came over her as she massaged it and this feeling stayed for quite awhile. Then just as it seemed it was easing up a bit, terror came over her with a squeezing sensation around her leg! Her side felt as if she was being dragged! She clenched her teeth tightly trying to hold in any sound that might escape. She felt as though all her blood was rushing to her head; she was dizzy and she frantically wanted to grab on to something. She closed her eyes and held her arms desperately when abruptly it passed and slowly the fear subsided.

Once again she breathed a sigh of relief that Frodo had survived yet another incident. It made her wonder what he must be seeing and going through. And, far in the depths of her being, a sensation was growing stronger as the days went on. She had felt it all along, from the beginning after the stab wound. But now it was becoming more apparent and Meli was able to guess what it was. It was heavy about her mid chest and she knew that was where Frodo was carrying the Ring on a chain. Her senses had become keener, her hearing sharper and she was more aware of all things around her. These were already normal traits for her, being elvish. Now it had such intensity that she grew paranoid and the feeling of doom haunted her thoughts.

Another day passed. Meli felt much better, even enjoying a long morning walk along the river. The air was crisp and the water flowed shallow, hinting at possible freezing higher up the mountains. Meli loved this time of year, breathing in deep as the air cleansed her lungs, but she missed the water. Later, returning to her room, Adreal joined her for the mid-day meal out on her balcony. As they ate, enjoying light conversation, suddenly a curious sense of foreboding came over Meli; another blanketed feeling that quickly turned to sadness and sorrow. She said nothing to Adreal, trying her best to hide it, but her friend was ever watchful and she caught the shadow that passed over her eyes. She waited and watched for awhile.

Suddenly Meli started breathing very heavily, and fear began raging inside her stronger than ever before. Standing up, she crossed the balcony to go inside, when she felt a hot wrath blaze up in her heart.

She cried out very loudly in a screech of exertion, "The Shire!"

Shock was on Adreal's face as Meli gasped and heaved as her emotions raged from fear to desperation to anger to wrath. Every breath was a shriek. Adreal jumped up and held her, hugging her tight as Meli unintentionally struggled with her.

The commotion caught the attention of several elves as they passed below her balcony. They stood watching in terror, as it appeared Meli had lost her mind. Then suddenly she jerked and stopped. Adreal let go. Meli grabbed at her chest as though dumfounded by a blow! Her eyes grew wide, she was unable to breathe; her face was desperately trying to inhale! Then suddenly she collapsed into unconsciousness!

Several elves including Nilde came running into the room, just as Adreal caught her from falling to the floor. They carried her inside to the bed, as Nilde immediately went to work blowing into her mouth; coaxing her to breathe. Adreal ran out to get Elrond, as many more elves came running into the room.

Meli awoke coughing and holding her chest. She looked around at all the faces in embarrassment and said, "I am alright. I am not hurt," although her fear continued and her breathing was painful.

Lord Elrond burst into the room, with Adreal following close behind. He immediately went to Meli's side as he demanded an explanation of what was going on. There was silence as Nilde and Adreal hesitated unsure of what to say. The other elves looked down at Meli and shook their heads.

Breathing heavily Meli sat up and said, "I will tell you. I…" she looked around the room as panic flooded her mind. She felt as though her very soul was about to be bared. Softly she whispered, "I can not say with so many around."

Elrond quickly ordered the elves to clear the room. As they turned to leave, Meli cried out, "Please! Adreal and Nilde, please stay!"

Nervously she reached down and opened a drawer next to the bed. As he recognized the book from the library, Elrond raised his brows in curiosity. She trembled as she opened it to the marked page and began reading aloud the words of the spell. He listened patiently as she spoke, seeing more in her words than she was saying. Worry came over him, intense and invading; drawing his curiosity to a peak.

"My Lord, I…I," she struggled searching for the right words as the fear within her continued to rage. His face grew impatient. "I was stabbed." she said with heavy breath as she pulled away the shoulder of her dress, revealing the scar; identical to the wound he had treated on Frodo. His eyes blazed in alarm! Her heart felt as though it were breaking.

"I am so sorry!" she cried with sadness of the betrayal she felt she had committed. Repeating herself over again and again she cried, "I am so sorry, I did not mean to hurt you, I am so sorry."

She never got a chance to tell him her reasons. Intense fear suddenly came back as her breathing became rapid. Heaving she began to cry out; unable to control the fear that mingled with her own. Sweat poured over her as if she were running as fast as she could; fleeing a horrible foe! It was Elrond who took hold of her now, trying his best to calm her.

He rubbed her back and arms, whispering into her ear; "alright, it is alright!" He could not calm her; he became flustered for a moment, unsure of what to do.

Then suddenly with all her breath she screamed, "Gandalf! **NOOOOOO**!"

The sound of her voice trailed the last word, in a long agonizing screech that left the very souls of all around her stricken to the core. She was sobbing now, unable to say words, barely able to breathe, collapsed in Elrond's arms with absolutely no strength left to her body. He held her long, his jaws clenched, his lips quivering as the others stood by weeping; for they all knew; Gandalf was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 **

**A Joyous Reunion**

Meli slept soundly for the next two days with the aid of a potion Elrond gave her for calming. Her grief was immense, as she carried both hers and Frodo's. Both of their lives had been deeply touched by Gandalf's friendship and the loss was unbearable. To the relief of all involved, there were no more episodes for a while. Time had been granted for mourning.

On the third day Meli rose to find a light snow had fallen and the air was clean and crisp. Her mood was still heavy with sadness, but she was determined to be strong. As she dressed she mentally prepared herself for facing the world with determination; she would not let her fear and shyness lead the way. She knew her privacy would be respected by Elrond, Nilde and Adreal. However, everyone in Imladris now knew she had a secret and, as loving as these people were, she was sure she would be getting too much attention.

As she removed her gown, she noticed she was still quite sore from her experience. She grimaced as she looked down at her side and to her alarm there was a large blackish bruise there. At the top of her right breast there was a blood red imprint of circlets that had torn the tissue of her skin. Puzzled she examined it. It appeared as if she had received a blow into a chain mail shirt. With revelation, a smile crossed her face as she remembered the mithril shirt Bilbo had written about in his book.

"He must have given it to Frodo before he left," she thought. "I love you Bilbo" she said aloud. Then her gaze fell upon the old scar from the stab wound. Great sadness filled her heart to know that Frodo was still suffering.

Elrond sat down at his desk, a look of pain and frustration on his face. His thoughts were focused on his daughter Arwen of whom he had just left. He had become obsessed, more than ever, with the fall of Gandalf. Now the task of the Fellowship seemed doomed to fail. He feared for Arwen's safety and felt desperate to somehow get her to the Undying Lands away from this evil; into the longing arms of his beloved wife, Celebrian. There, he knew she would be safe.

He thought of Celebrian; her beauty, her selflessness; the wound she suffered that drove her to depart for the west. His love for her had not lessoned one ounce since her departure. Longing for her made him ache deep in his heart, and it hurt even more to know the agony Arwen would feel if she were to lose _her_ true love. He knew she would never get over such a loss. But he could not forget Celebrian's pain; _she _would be devastated with the loss of her daughter. It was a tangled dilemma; he had given it deep thought, pleaded with his daughter; but she refused to go. Now, he wondered if he was being selfish; yet he knew he would never give up trying to convince her. Meli entered the room, and his anxiety increased; for his love for this little one was also as for a daughter.

Meli felt nervous as she entered the library. She was unsure of how Elrond now felt about the information she had withheld from him. She imagined he was quite angry with her. Upon seeing that she was alright he smiled slightly and his look softened some.

"Well, you are up and about now. I hope you are feeling better," he said.

She put on a brave front and smiled sweetly. She sat down across from him. "I want you to know how sorry I am if I upset you for not telling you everything, my Lord. It is just…well…you seemed so distraught and preoccupied. I did not want to burden you."

Before she could go on, Elrond stopped her and said, "Do not worry Melanna. Nilde has told me everything and I have forgiven you. You have been through enough without worrying about me and I agree with your reasons. Now that I know, I wish to help you in anyway I can. I fear for you Melanna. I feel you should leave for Aman. Perhaps the Valar could somehow break the spell and you could be spared the pain and risk."

Her eyes became wide. Had he no hope for Frodo? If not, she did not want to know; for she greatly respected his judgment. _She _would never lose hope. The notion had never entered her mind to leave Middle Earth to seek release from the spell. She thought deeply for a moment about all that she had been through. Though she could not feel Frodo's good feelings, she somehow knew deep within her that he would never give up. His resolve was obvious as he continued on, yet she felt the twinges of doubt that constantly entered his mind. Still, her every waking moment was a celebration within her heart that someday, he might love her; as she loved him. Elrond's eyes were locked with hers with determination as he patiently waited for her to answer.

She inhaled deeply and then replied, "No Lord Elrond. I can not do that. I will not leave until I know he is safe."

Pain once more crossed Elrond's face as he thought of his daughter Arwen and the very similar conversation he had just had with her. The spell flew through his mind and Nilde's words revealing Meli's love for Frodo brought the aching to new heights he had not thought possible. The words he used to try to convince Arwen echoed in his mind and he wondered if it would be selfish of him to repeat them to Meli.

Sensing his pain, she approached him and took his hand in hers. She kissed his cheek softly, holding her lips against his skin as she whispered delicately into his ear, "Thank you, my Lord for all that you have done for me."

Elrond's heart throbbed, selfish or not he did not want to lose Meli either. But before he could respond, she quietly walked away to face the others.

Meli tapped gently on Bilbo's door. Her nerves began to stir the grief inside her. The door opened and one look at his face told her of the full depths of his grief. No words were spoken, as their eyes told each other their thoughts and she earnestly put her arms about his neck and hugged his face close to hers.

He held her tightly as they fought back the tears and finally he said, "Yes, yes. "We shall all miss him dearly."

The elves of Imladris were kind to Meli, giving her respect and privacy, for they knew her manner. Occasionally she would receive a kind word, a gentle song, or a hug and it warmed her. It had been a week since that painful day and word had come to Elrond that the company had made their way to the woods of Lothlorien where they had found refuge among the people of Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel. He also learned that Gandalf's demise was from a fall in battle with a Balrog. New mourning began with this news and it especially frightened the elves, for those creatures were of the most fearsome of all of Morgoth's creations.

Having knowledge of them from the books she had read, Meli's anxiety for Frodo increased; she feared the dangers he would yet face, as his quest continued. Would they be just as bad, or even worse? And that fear intensified as word came that Orcs were increasing again in the southern woods of Mirkwood, at Dol Guldur. The sight of how Carasdolen looked after the attack on it, revived anew within Meli's memory. The taste of that horror returned as she wondered about their safety in Imladris. Elrond readied his armies to stand guard.

That night as she lay in bed she could not sleep as the Balrog haunted her thoughts. Now, for the first time, she allowed herself to put Frodo's fear aside and truly think about the danger she was in. She thought about her life, what it had meant and how it had unfolded so far. Simple, irresponsible, meaningless; she decided, for she did not see her own worth. Now here she was carrying this massive burden and for what good would it do anyone? Never before had she felt so alone, so useless, so burdensome for poor Elrond, Adreal and Nilde.

Her love for Frodo came flooding back into her present mind and she knew she would not be able to leave Middle Earth. She was willing to suffer, to experience possible agonizing death, just to know what fate was to befall him. She knew it was selfish and she felt shame for it. However, her love was strong and that sealed her decision; she would not leave the east. She began pondering a way to relieve the burden on her friends, wondering where she could go; a new place to reside alone taking sole onus for her dilemma; then, her thoughts turned back to Carasdolen. Surely the Orcs would have no need for a ruined, abandoned city, built far too small for their needs. Perhaps she could survive there once again, using her stealth and cunning. She pondered the possibility of it for a moment and decided it would be best. She would have to slip out of Imladris quietly and unnoticed.

Before her thoughts could scheme any further she slipped into a deep sleep; carried off into other whispers of her mind. As she slept Meli dreamed of a lady. Fair and wondrous she was with the deepest eyes ever to come to Meli's mind. The Lady stood with Frodo, near a beautiful basin; it was cut elegantly with a creamy white stone. Magnificent trees circled the area with grey thickness that left a sense of awe as they hovered in serene fortification. The Lady's dress glistened in the moonlight and her golden hair flowed willowy as it hugged her loveliness. Yet all Meli could see was Frodo; her heart whirled with longing at the sight of him. As the Lady poured water into the basin she invited him to see, if he desired. Frodo hesitated and then he stepped forward to look down into the water. Meli could see as though she was looking through his eyes and she saw her star; the one who had given her comfort so many times. Suddenly the vision changed and she saw a land, green and rich with tiny little doors in the sides of the hills. It stirred her emotion in its beauty; it was a land one would be proud to call home. It was the Shire, as Bilbo had described in his book! Slowly, relentlessly, dark shadow loomed over the land and it became riddled with horror, ruined and raped. Shock and immense anger boiled up in her as the distress shook her. The vision changed quickly and all became red; a flaming eye blazed all around the basin!

Fear ripped through Meli's body and she cried out in her sleep. "No! No!"

Suddenly the vision was gone and the serene peace of the great trees returned to her sight, yet the fear remained. A golden voice spoke, it was the Lady; her face grim and beautiful as she said to Frodo, "I know what it was that you saw, for that is also in my mind."

The next thing Meli knew she was being coaxed awake by Adreal. Startled she sat up just as Nilde and Elrond rushed into the room.

"What is it Meli? I heard you scream!" cried Adreal.

Meli replied shakily. "I am alright, it was only a dream. It was only a dream." She repeated the words hoping to make it true, but her heart told her she had foreseen something horrible in that mirror…something that may come to pass.

Just then one of the scouts came rushing down the hall. "Where is Lord Elrond," he cried to Nilde. He then spotted Elrond and quickly entered Meli's room. "My Lord, there are people approaching Imladris! There are very many of them!"

"Who are they?" asked Elrond. The scout hesitated as if he wasn't sure what to say, then pointing at Meli he said, "They are like her!"

Meli flew out of the bed and threw on a robe as she ran down the hall. All the way down the stairs her mind raced as she thought of the possibilities. By the time she reached the door the others caught up with her puzzled and curious as she was. As she entered the porch they came round the corner and her eyes fell upon the most wonderful sight of her life! It was her people! Her mother and father were among them! She shrieked as she ran into their arms, laughing, crying, kissing and hugging. All of the Colter elves gathered around them laughing merrily for they had not expected to find Meli there. Dirty and weary they were and their clothes were rags. Yet, this was the most beautiful sight for all to see and the elves of Imladris sang out in joyful song as many tears were shed.

The time to follow on that night was a mixture of emotions for all as the fate of the elves was revealed by a young Colter named Galadir. Meli recognized him immediately; he was the closest friend Giliath had had in childhood. Beside him stood beautiful elven lass, Kalë; who Meli had admired and longed to know for as long as she could remember. Meli's shyness seemed to always rule her life. Now she had regrets for the friendships she had not savored as she grew.

As Galadir spoke, grief filled the hearts of all as it was learned that the Colter Elves had been taken as slaves to serve the Orcs of Moria. They had experienced horror far beyond any imagination.

"We were forced to dwell in the deepest of the mines, cooking and crafting weapons for the horrible creatures. The beatings were frequent and many of us suffered injuries that healed with distortion. We do not know how we acquired our freedom. There was a loud crashing sound that echoed from far above us! We thought more Orcs were arriving from the eastern lands and had begun a fight. They came from time to time, but never stayed long. It was they who invaded our home and took us away, leaving us in the depths of evil. They were the vilest and darkest of creatures; far worse than the cave dwellers that tormented us thereafter."

Meli could almost taste the disgust in his voice and as he spoke her memory of the wicked creatures made her tremble.

Galadir continued excitedly, "There was much confusion as the drums of warning began their haunting songs far above the caves we worked in. The Orcs assigned to guard us became overwrought and anxious as the screams and shrieks far above grew swiftly into a panic. There was much confusion! They could not take it- the agitation and curiosity drew them away!"

He stopped a moment in reflection and almost laughed as he said, "It was as though one thought the other was staying behind to stand guard! We were dumbfounded for a moment, unsure of what to do. We knew we must act quickly! Everything was dropped where we stood and we ran gathering the women and children on the way! We headed straight for the passages where the sweet smell of winter could be breathed. They were long and the terror was overwhelming, for we knew not if this was the way out. But we had to try! We had to try!" The young man's voice broke as the memory of the fearful flight escaped through his words. Kalë took his hand and bowed her head to hide the tears she herself could not contain.

He paused to swallow and breathe in the fresh air of the mountain. He looked up and closed his eyes as though once again he were experiencing the newfound freedom. Then he continued. "Once we were outside we felt paranoid and wary of all surroundings. We did not trust this new freedom. Yet at the same time we were relieved to be finally free and the joy was overwhelming! We made our way carefully along the terrain, using every aspect of stealth we knew; for the Orcs did not take long to realize we were gone. We could feel the thickness of their anger as they searched for us and we could see they were making their way to Carasdolen!"

"Alas," cried one of the elder Colters, "Carasdolen is lost to us forever!"

Galadir took Kalë and sat down. One could almost see the weight those words put forth on his shoulders as he bowed his head into his hands. Meli longed to hug them all and hold them in the warmth of her heart. But the shock was burdensome and she could not move from the embrace of her parents.

Elrond knew right away it must have been the nine that caused the commotion Galadir spoke of. He began to tell them about the Fellowship of the Ring, leaving very little detail out. He spoke of the quest softly as though the very words could possibly be heard by Sauron himself.

"It must have been the Fellowship that distracted the Orcs long enough for you to escape." He said.

Elrond paused. Silence loomed for a long moment as he prepared the words he was about to give. He gently told the little elves of the fall of Gandalf; avoiding the harrowing fine details. With that there was great sorrow, for Gandalf was held dear by the Colter Elves. He had been like a wise old Grandfather watching over them, bringing their only news of the world, providing them council and loving advice.

Wearily they made their way to the Great Hall. The elves of Imladris pampered them with fruit, bread, cheese, and a light elvish draught. And best of all they were provided a bath to soothe their souls and tend their ailments. The hall was warm and golden in their eyes; a palace fit for a king! And with time, the joy of freedom overtook the sorrow as the timidity faded and blessings were abundant in the simplest things. Thankful they became from this day forth as every moment of life was cherished forever more.

Meli took her parents in to stay in her room and pampered them as well. It was easy finding clothes for her mother, as she was the same size as Meli, but all she could find for her father were some clothes from Bilbo. They were baggy, for Geren had become very thin and they swallowed him up like a tent. He chuckled at how silly he looked in them, and began dancing around her room merrily. They had a good laugh, of which they had not experienced in a very long time. Finally they settled down and supped on cold meats, cheeses and fruits. They sipped warm miruvor, the cordial of Imladris and talked well into the early morning hours, telling each other their experiences. However, her parents did not speak in detail of the horror they endured. Nor did Meli mention Frodo or the spell. She decided much needed sleep was necessary before she broke that news to them.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 **

**To Pass into the West**

The next day Meli arose in the late morning. Her parents were still sleeping soundly, for the journey had taken a great toll on them. She quietly dressed and went down to the Hall of Fire to see if any of the others had arisen. She found three of the youngest children outside playing a game of chase and tickle. The sound of their laughter made her giggle and it drew them to involve her in the game. A fourth child stepped outside with a large puppy overfilling his arms. It belonged to one of the Halladur, but had attached itself to his heart upon first sight.

Meli chased the littlest one and snatched her up into her arms, tickling her as she kissed her. She was so cute Meli couldn't resist a cuddle before she began to swing her around in a gleeful ride. The breeze blew the child's braids and suddenly the puppy jumped down to chase them. Laughter sang loudly as the children and Meli played awhile with the puppy. Finally several parents came out to announce breakfast and the children scrambled to the dining hall to fill their hungry tummies.

Hunger twinges called to Meli also, but she wanted to see if her assistance was needed in the Great Hall. As she neared the entrance, the door opened and out stepped two of the Elders. Meli's heart jumped when she recognized one of them as Giliath's Father, Lord Randelin. The familiar sadness from long ago once again invaded her and she wondered if he knew the fate of his son. Stammering a little bit, she greeted them making every effort to express warmth. She offered to show them to the dining hall for breakfast.

"We would be delighted if you joined us, Melanna," said the other Elder.

She tried to remember his name as she recomposed herself. An awkward moment passed, and then remembrance came to her just in time. "I'd love to, Lord Dergen."

She felt immensely uncomfortable, not knowing what to say next. They walked in silence and it continued, until she had served them and sat down to join them. Almost immediately, they began asking her what had happened. They asked her where she was when all were captured. They wanted to know why she wasn't captured as well.

As she told most of her story, they continued with many questions, until finally Randelin inquired, "Melanna, did you see Giliath?"

Her heart trembled and she hesitated. Randelin saw immediately the discomfort the question gave rise to. "He is dead, isn't he?" He said softly. "I…I mean…he would have been here with you if …not."

His face was ashen and he had lost a tremendous amount of weight, yet the bold and authoritative stature he had always held remained. For the first time Meli noticed the family resemblance between him and his son.

Aching with memory of Giliath, Meli laid her hand upon his and softly told him, "Yes Lord Randelin. I found him in the back of the dining hall, near the cellar door. He must have fought very bravely for there were dead Orcs all around him."

Randelin had trained his son well. This news brought a small light to his eyes as pride in his son's skill showed through. He then bowed his head as the grief took him over, a great weight that pulled on his mighty shoulders.

Meli continued to explain how she placed his body in his bed as she did the others and closed up the houses so no one could disturb them. With disgust she told of how she disposed of the Orc bodies, then she bowed her head in respect and they sat in silence for a long moment.

Randelin's voice cracked as he broke the silence, "It must have been hard for you my dear." She looked up. He continued as a single tear trailed down his cheek, "Yes, I know he was to ask you to marry him."

Meli blushed deeply not knowing what to say. She sadly bowed her head once more as her throat threatened to reply with a great sob. She held it tight, fighting the emotion, finally tucking it away deep within herself, but not without a great struggle. They sat in silence for another moment as she resisted the emotion. Unable to control it, she quickly stood up and began to clear the plates; keeping busy served as effective distraction.

Dergen cleared his throat and began discussing their plans to journey to the Havens. "I think we should leave very soon, it will not be safe here for long."

Randelin looked at him with concern and agreed, "Yes, based on what Lord Elrond told us last night, I think it would be best if we all left as soon as everyone has rested and is able."

Meli's mind raced. She had just got her mother and father back! The thought had not occurred to her that they would leave Imladris, especially so soon!

"Surely Lord Randelin, you don't think the quest will fail?" She asked him, desperately trying to think of a way to stop them.

He looked at her with eyes that had seen far too much, trauma. "I will not even take that chance Meli, for our people have suffered enough."

She could not argue with that. Her heart sank, as she realized deep down it was best for them. For her self, the thought of leaving was completely out of the question. Suddenly she knew she was losing her family and her people once again. The two Elders continued their conversation as Meli finished cleaning up, listening intently, but not saying anything further. She gathered some food for her parents then politely excused herself. She walked slowly back to her room, a heavy mood shadowing her steps.

Her parents were awake and had just finishing washing and dressing. They both smiled as she entered the room, as though the sun itself had walked through the door. Once again, she was in their arms kissing them and telling them how she had never given up hope. The emotion of the morning overwhelmed her as she was in her Mother's arms and she wanted to weep, feeling like a small child again. Although she fought it, her Mother sensed her mood and comforted her as she had done all her life and the bonding between them grew ever stronger.

The morning faded into afternoon as they ate. The talk was light, and Meli knew she must tell them about the spell soon. It was a difficult thing and the thought had occurred to her not to ever tell them, to let them go into the west none the wiser. How on earth was she going to convince them that she should stay; it seemed impossible. She realized she had to tell them. Lord Elrond would never allow her to keep it from them, knowing how a father would feel.

So after they ate, she took them out onto her balcony where the sun was shining warmly for this February day. They settled upon soft cushion chairs around a gracefully carved table as a small breeze carried the leaves in gentle swirls about their feet.

She began with the dream. Her mother had also experienced dreams of foresight in her time, so they understood the significance of them. They knew that sometimes these dreams were given as guidance, yet this time it seemed to them to be offered to comfort. They had hope now; they would take the ship into the west and finally find peace without fear. And they wondered aloud who it would be among their people to give Meli such love on that ship.

Meli sighed before she continued. She knew she had to tell them though she knew it would break their hearts. Finally she mustered the courage and told them about Frodo, her eyes gleaming with brightness as she described him. Her mother could feel the love in her words. But her father could only feel sorrow, for his mind had been set on Giliath.

With great regret, she told them about the warning and waited a moment for the shock to settle down to some extent. Then, she continued with the events of the stabbing. They reacted with complete distress, but did not interrupt her; they allowed her to go into full detail of the council and her research after. She revealed the spell and the other occurrences until finally all fell quiet, though a look of worry, anguish and panic covered their faces.

After a few moments of intense reflection her father said with hoarse authority, "We must go swiftly to the havens! The sooner we get you to Aman, the better. We must seek healing and safety!"

Meli braced herself, remembering what the two Elders had spoken of in the morning. She quickly replied, "It saddens me Adar, to lose you again…but I will not leave. Not until I know he is safe."

Geren looked at her dumfounded. Meli had her rebellious stages in life, but this was ludicrous in his eyes. "You will leave if I say you will!" He demanded without raising his voice.

Meli had become bold when it came to her fear for Frodo and she quietly but respectfully said to her father, "Adar, I love you with all my being! I will not go. I did not give up hope for you…I will not give up hope for him. I will not leave him until I know."

She stood and walked away, heading down to the waterside, as utter pain invaded her heart for the new grief she was bringing them. She felt so selfish, so ashamed, but she knew she could not leave.

After a time, her mother found her. Meli was sitting on the yellow grass, her cloak wrapped tightly around her. She was crumbling leaves into a pile in front of her. She looked up startled, revealing her troubled face. Linanna sat down next to her daughter and gently removed a lock of hair from her cheek as she searched deeply into her eyes for understanding.

"Meli, I know how you must feel, being in love and wanting to be with him, to know he is safe. My dear, do you truly understand that if he should fail, you will die? I could not bear to lose you again." Meli frowned as her mother continued, "Yes. We thought all this time that you were dead. We assumed because they had not brought you with us that they had found you in your quiet spot in Carasdolen and had killed you."

This thought had never occurred to Meli, that her parents had thought she was dead. It made her shudder as her mother continued.

"And now we are to lose you again, only this time to certain suffering and possible death? What if they should capture Frodo and torture him?" She lifted Meli's chin and with heavy breath whispered, "You have no idea Meli, what that is like. To know my daughter is suffering it…"

Linanna sighed heavily as she opened the top of her dress from under her cloak revealing to Meli the scars she had received in Moria. Meli gasped as she looked upon her purple and mutilated skin. Remembrance of her own scars which she had already received made her hang her head in shame for the very thought of making her parents suffer further.

"I will go with you Nane." She whispered, "I will go."

Preparations for the journey began immediately. Clothes were the most time consuming issue the Colters had to deal with. However, their skills were efficient and the task was done making them ready within a week. Meli was deeply melancholic the entire time and was truly not much help. She spent much of the time gazing off into a void, expressionless and quiet. Even Bilbo could not cheer her. Her parents, though happy and content now to have their way, were growing more and more concerned at whether they were doing the right thing by her.

"What if Frodo were to succeed? What if she could not forget him? Would she blame us?" These thoughts and many others came to them as they saw how their daughter was handling the impending departure.

The night before they were to leave, Frodo's blanket of emotions billowed anew with a feeling of fear and urgency that overwhelmed Meli. She was alone in her room. Geren and Linanna were at the Hall of Fire with the others discussing the exodus. Heaving breaths forced their way deep into her lungs as her upper arms began to feel intense pain; it was as though they were straining to accomplish something. Suddenly she lurched forward as if she had been hit in the back between the shoulders. As she drew breath she felt the release of the chain mail circlets from a point on her back. A few moments passed, she waited in fear. Then rapidly her arms began aching again as if they were being forced into overuse. She reached a moment when a sigh of relief filled her. But it was short lived for now a sudden dread fell upon her. It was followed by a chill and she grasped at her heart as a deadly cold flowed through her. It brought memory of the wound in her shoulder and her eyes saw the silhouette of a crowned man, shadowed in grey white, a menacing scowl upon his face! She crouched down in fear and stayed that way for a while fighting within her heart the sensation of great pulling…pulling her to evil. When she was able to move again, she slowly made her way down the hallway in search of Elrond, hugging the walls as the exhaustion pulled at her. As she walked along the long corridor, she begged in her mind, that it was over and that Frodo would be safe.

She reached the library, but Elrond was not there. The light flickered and a cold darkness filled the room. Sadness could be felt thickly in the air of his home as she headed through the wing where his living quarters were. Finally she found him in the hallway just as he exited his daughter Arwen's room and he looked as though he was in pain.

"Meli, what is it?" he asked, becoming aware that she looked distraught. He led her into his sitting room and motioned for her to sit.

"Are _you_ all right Lord Elrond?" She asked as concern for him took the forefront of her emotions.

"I am alright. Tell me what has happened?" He said in hopeless, almost listless tone.

As she began to detail the previous episode, he looked at her with bleak eyes and as she spoke she knew he had lost hope. This news sealed his fears.

She finished quickly saying, "I thought you would want to know, my Lord."

He looked at her gravely and said, "Yes, I am glad you told me. Well. You will be leaving tomorrow. Let us hope you make it to Valinor and find healing from this evil spell before too much more happens to you. Now, if you will excuse me, I have much to think over."

A thick lump formed in her throat as she sensed his mood. Her thoughts turned to Arwen. Meli could feel his hurt and bitterness and wondered what decision had been made. Had Arwen agreed to pass into the Undying Lands, forever; forsaking her love for Aragorn? Reluctantly and without another word, she left him to his privacy. All along the way, she worried about his well being.

Back in her room, her fear and depression intensely burdened her mood. She walked out onto the balcony and looked up at her star as the sound of chirping from the crickets and the hoots of the night owls busily filled the land. She began singing to the star in mournful song and all fell silent as her voice carried her agony high into the sky.

She stopped as a question suddenly entered her mind and she asked the bright star, "What is your name? I have never known your name."

"It is Eärendil" said her father as he walked up behind her. "Gil-Estel, he is the Star of High Hope. He is Lord Elrond's father." Meli looked puzzled. In answer, Geren began telling the tale, poetic and beautiful.

_**Eärendil was a mariner **_

_**that tarried in Arvernien;  
he built a boat of timber felled **_

_**in Nimbrethil to journey in;  
her sails he wove of silver fair,  
of silver were her lanterns made,  
her prow was fashioned like a swan,  
and light upon her banners laid….  
**_

Sadness filled his eyes and they glistened in the light of the star as he finished the last verse.

**_…And over Middle-earth he passed _**

_**and heard at last the weeping sore **_

_**of women and of elven-maids **_

_**in Elder Days, in years of yore. **_

_**But on him mighty doom was laid, **_

_**till Moon should fade, an orbéd star **_

_**to pass, and tarry never more **_

_**on Hither Shores where mortals are; **_

_**for ever still a herald on **_

_**an errand that should never rest **_

_**to bear his shining lamp afar,  
the Flammifer of Westernesse**_

Meli sighed as her father put his arm around her shoulders. She said, "I never knew this before. How it must grieve Lord Elrond to look up into the sky at night and long for his father. How did you know Adar?"

Geren squeezed her gently and replied, "Gandalf told us that tale, one night as we sat around the fire." He turned to look into her eyes, "You were very young then, and probably do not remember. Do not grieve for Lord Elrond, for the star surely brings him comfort as it does for all of us."

It was a while later. They sat in silence as they gazed into the fire. A soft tap sounded.

Linanna opened the door and exclaimed "Lord Elrond! All is well I hope! What brings you here at this hour?"

He stepped into the room, a serious look on his face and asked if he may have a moment of their time.

"Yes, my Lord." She said gesturing towards a chair on Meli's right.

He sat down and sighed as if he did not know how to begin. A smile fell over his face as he said. "I have received joyous news and wished to share it with you first Melanna."

She looked at him and her eyes kindled in the firelight as hope begged him on.

Elrond continued, "Gandalf is alive! He arrived in Lothlorien the day after the Fellowship departed."

Meli heaved a heavy sigh as if a tremendous load had lifted. Smiling brightly, she began asking many questions. Elrond replied, "I do not know what plan he has. I feel there is much yet for him to do. Now, I give you further news." Gravity came back into his voice for he knew it would not please Geren and Linanna. "I have received a request this night from the Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien."

Wonder came into their thoughts of this fair Lady they had heard of in songs. Elrond went on, "She is aware of the spell and has requested the services of Melanna. She feels this evil can be turned to good."

Meli's eyes lit up and she looked pleadingly at her parents. Geren and Linanna looked at each other in dread. They sat in silence for a moment as Meli held her breath.

"How can she be of service?" Geren asked.

Elrond explained, "She has constant contact with Frodo through his emotions. The Lady has many powers, of which I may not speak. This knowledge could be of use to her."

"Adar! Nane! Please!" Meli pleaded, as her fear for Frodo drove her words. "There _is_ hope! Let me help him. I promise you. When the time comes, I will join you. I promise…even if it means leaving him once I know he is safe!"

With these words, they looked at each other. Their pain brought the realization that this situation could possibly make a difference. If they were to say no, and Frodo failed…Geren nodded his head as Linanna began to weep.

Meli flew into his arms thanking him over and over. She then went to her mother and held her tight, telling her, "Do not worry Nane, do not worry. There _is_ hope."

For the first time in days they saw their daughter smile and it brought warmth back, though their hearts remained sad and fearful.

As word of Gandalf reached the ears of the other elves, joyous song rang out. Even Elrond joined in with his beautiful tenor voice and they sang deep into the night, lifting the hearts of all. This news brought hope to them, and the air about Imladris the next day was laden with serenity in their farewells as they looked to their lives in the west. But Meli still felt the burden of loss weighing heavily in Frodo's blanket and she grieved that he did not yet know of Gandalf's fate. So this news for her was bittersweet and she could taste it through Frodo's pain. She kept it inside and told no one, not even Bilbo.

As the eves were leaving, Meli stood in the courtyard, not far from the tree were she had hidden to farewell the Nine. Again all was quiet as the leaving surged bitter grief in those who had loved this land. The Colters passed first, and as her parents faded from view she felt a bit of her burden lift with relief that they would soon be safe and happy. Their parting was sad, yet Meli managed to smile at them to show she was now at peace. She hoped it would give them comfort. It wasn't until they were out of view that she let her smile fall for she already missed them greatly.

Next the Halladur passed, and she nodded in farewell to Nilde of whom she had come to love, hoping she would someday see her again. As Nilde's eyes met hers, they twinkled in understanding. It seemed to Meli there was a light of foresight in them that she had not seen before. They kindled with hope.

There were many elves leaving at this time. Few had decided to stay to serve Lord Elrond to the end. His sons Elladan and Elrohir were to continue serving this great land. Adreal had chosen to stay to care for them. For this Meli was grateful because she worried at how lonely Elrond was to become. He would need someone to take care of him. He would need some family around him. She looked up to see him standing on his balcony. His face was grim as he looked down at his daughter as she walked out of the gate. Arwen turned just before she passed, to look up at him, and Meli saw that there was no serenity in her eyes. Just sadness, as if all of life was slowly fading from her beauty. Meli's heart ached for her, as the memory of her feelings just the day before flooded back.

She wanted to call to her, "Stop! There _is_ hope!" But she knew better. Yes, how lonely Elrond was to become.

She spent her last evening in Imladris with Bilbo. They spoke softly of the days to come, exposing their deepest fears and offering comforting words to each other with the hope they held. Their last moment held the warmth of a long hug, and with the gentle brush of his cheek Meli kissed him goodbye.

The next morning, Elrond walked her out to the stables. He asked her a question that had been nagging him, but had not the chance to ask with all that had been happening. "Meli, please tell me. Do you feel the effects the Ring has on Frodo very strongly now?"

She shuttered with cold memory of past to present and said, "Yes, Lord Elrond, I do. It is very heavy, and there is an ever present pulling within my heart. It is like the Ring is commanding him, pushing him. He must be very strong within to withstand the agony it bestows."

Elrond's face grew ashen and he stopped walking to kneel down and face her. "Then you must promise me, Meli. Promise you will do everything in your power to assist Lady Galadriel. It is a more dire necessity than you know. I don't mean to frighten you, but you must understand. It will get stronger."

"I understand." Meli responded with cold fear closing up her throat.

Elrond went on, "I am profoundly sorry this has burdened your life, my friend. I would not have wished this upon anyone, but especially you. You will be in my thoughts until I see you again, safe."

Meli put her arms about his neck and held him tight, and he kissed her cheek. She then told him something she had never been able to say, "I love you my Lord. Thank you for everything!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 **

**The Journey to Lothlorien**

With his skills in speed, furtiveness, and the sword, Glorfindel was Elrond's mightiest warrior. His manner was honorable and his heart was devoted. For this, he was trusted most with Meli's safety on the long journey to Lothlórien. Elrond informed him of everything, leaving out nothing regarding Meli's experiences; in this way he would be prepared, just in case anything happened along the way.

"Never leave her alone." He told him gravely as he said goodbye. Glorfindel nodded in agreement.

He had seen the little elf from time to time about Imladris and had marveled at her skill in furtiveness. He doubted very many of the other elves even knew she existed. It amused him that she had been so curious and bashful at the same time. On more than one occasion he had watched her as she hid behind anything she could find just to get close enough to hear what was going on. He was tempted to teasingly call her out many times, but he restrained himself out of respect for her. In his eyes she was adorable, tiny and graceful; and he was just as curious about her as she was with everyone and everything.

Meli soon forgot her sad farewells and her timidity soon dissolved when she met the mighty elf. From the very beginning, she discovered he had an entertaining sense of humor. Though there were not many words spoken as they rode the first few days, she enjoyed a few of his tales and silly songs when they stopped to rest. She had never imagined such a strong and reverent elf, so full of history, could be so funny! It was wonderful for Meli to laugh again.

Perhaps it was because Glorfindel sensed her mood or read her thoughts. For to him it seemed a deep fearful depression had invaded her and the gloom was heavy.

A foreboding was eating at Frodo and indecision was nagging him constantly throughout these days. All she knew was that something deeply mistrustful had entered into his blanket of emotions and it was gnawing at him. At first she felt confused, for he was accompanied by the most honorable people she could imagine. But the subtle yearning within her grew stronger each day, and though she would not allow it to enter her forethoughts, it simmered in the back of her mind; a menacing nag. Within her own blanket she held hope. Thus this mix of emotive reflexes was mingled with the urgency of the ride. Therefore, Glorfindel's antics were very helpful in enabling her to cope; and there was another distraction to help Meli along the way.

She was drawn to the horse, in spite of his massive size. Soft white he was with shadows of brown and a grey mane long and willowy. She fell in love with him, although it was love alone. For the horse desired nothing from her and would not allow her to stroke his face as she longed to do. The only contact he would allow was to let Glorfindel place her upon his back and when they rode slowly, she got her fill as she stroked his mane and whispered sweet words into his ears.

At one moment Glorfindel let out a bellowing laugh, "You desire to steal my horse away from me, don't you little one!"

Meli blushed slightly, but carried on, for the adoration drew her and tickled her heart.

Glorfindel worked his horse Asfaloth very hard, though the terrain had become rough after leaving the woods. As they drew south the wind had become bitter and cold as it whipped their faces. Asfaloth did not seem to mind. He seemed to understand the need for haste and never lost respect for his master. As they rested, he was kept untied for need of fast departure if necessary and he was ever present, never wandered. To Meli's delight he stood near her much of the time as though on guard, gentle yet mighty. However, he still would not let her touch him.

It was late February, their third day of riding. The wind had grown warmer and the sky was clear. The sun awoke on the horizon, bright and gold, hinting that spring was around the corner. The mountains loomed nearer and as they rode Meli thought about how terrifying the stone giants had been as she traveled the other side so many years before. The land was more rugged on this side, bleak and barren with thorn bushes gnarling around each bend. She breathed deep, absorbing the morning air to lighten the heaviness of her gloom. It was refreshing after the bitter wind they had endured the previous days. They were at a swift gallop taking advantage of it all. They soaked in the fresh scents of the awakening buds as their task at hand pushed them.

However, the evil would not give them peace. The ever present gloom and foreboding seemed to come to a head within Meli and there was a period of time when intense fear once again gripped her. It was the unknown that made these moments the worse, with her own fear of Frodo's safety also overwhelming her. Shaken she began to sense the Ring was falling into the hands of a weaker mind and desperation fiercely riddled her. Glorfindel sensed something was happening and slowed Asfaloth to a stop.

He led them under some trees for cover and gently helped Meli down from the horse. She staggered feeling a rush of forced breath as if Frodo were running. Then something happened that froze her heart almost to the core. She fell to her knees and she begun hallucinating! It was grey and shadowed at first and she couldn't make anything out. She was blinded to reality and she kept covering her eyes hoping to block out the visions. But the images began coming in clearer and she could sense an evil presence. She saw vast stretches of land from a high point, many places passed before her; places she had never seen before! It would have been a marvel but the sight of war and Orcs were among them all.

Her eyes then fell upon a wondrous sight, a walled city, white and beautiful; it was built in such a manner, it appeared to be embedded into the welcoming embrace of a mountain. It had circlets spiraling up, level upon level until they seemed to burst into a tall white tower, splendid and proud. White doves fluttered about the banners that billowed in pride. Tall men stood upon the parapets dressed brilliantly with long silver trumpets held proudly to their lips. Hope seeped into her heart, but it was short lived for her gaze was dragged away to the east where terror and hatred clouded her mind. Then she saw it once more, the hideous flaming eye as she had seen in her dream and it felt as though it was groping around, looking for her; or was it Frodo?

Panicked she cried out "Never, never!" But then as though forcefully won by evil, she wickedly said, "Verily I come, I come to you!"

Shock filled her and in reflex she quickly cried, "No! No! **Frodo!**" His name rang out into the echoes of the mountain as she screamed it with every ounce of the breath in her lungs.

Glorfindel took her into his arms and held her tightly. He whispered into her little ears, "Shhh Meli…it is alright, it is alright."

Her determination battled the evil with all her might and suddenly her resolve took over. With every corner of her mind she poured her desire to will him and cried "Take it off! Take it off! Fool, take it off! Take off the Ring!"

She writhed, tormented; her body quaked until suddenly all became clear again and the vision was gone. Panting, she looked up at Glorfindel who was staring at her wide eyed. Weariness came over her, and the sense of urgency did not pass, yet with relief, her heart was lighter.

Meli inhaled deeply in a cleansing breath when suddenly, a Warg bounded out of the brush, teeth snarling and saliva dripping! Glorfindel's reflexes reacted barely in time as he let go of Meli and swung his sword, piercing the hideous creature in the side. The creature snarled and attempted another strike; and found his end as the sword drove through his neck. Three more Wargs suddenly bounded out of the brush in a whirl of terror!

Meli cowered into a small ball at Glorfindel's feet as he fought them off. She felt the hot breath of one that came too close and she stiffened as she anticipated the bite! The whir of the blade swooshed near her head as again the hand of the mighty elven warrior reacted swiftly! The head flew up and landed near her splattering its fowl blood everywhere. The remaining two attacked at once! The sword flew around with skill catching one in the shoulder. He bounded off yelping from his wound, but the other got hold of Meli's cloak and began pulling her! Terror poured out in her piercing scream! Glorfindel almost tripped over her body as his sword flew once more into the wiry fur, but again it was only enough to wound. The beast boiled in anger and his snarling teeth snapped in fierce desperation. He lunged once more, weak but furious. Glorfindel's reflexes jabbed in skill and his blade found his heart quickly.

Relief overcame them and they rested for a moment to catch their breath, but a moment felt too long; Glorfindel warily insisted upon departure. "There will certainly be Orcs about if there are Wargs," he warned.

They rode so swiftly Meli's heart continued to pound. She held her chest tightly in hopes the nagging pressure would pass. The grey mist within Frodo returned and she felt out of breath as though he was running again. She held her head in her hands and leant close against Glorfindel's chest and prayed. Frodo's blanket of emotions billowed up in urgency, then down one moment as it calmed; then it billowed, right back up again in frustration. She felt his anger overshadow his fear until finally it billowed down again. To her relief, calming remained.

Meli wondered and worried what had happened to Frodo. Her heart finally calmed a bit, allowing her to focus on the good things in her life; her parents, Bilbo, her love for Frodo; she used every means she could think of to distract her thoughts. Finally the turmoil slowly faded into another period of quiet uncertainty.

The remaining days of the trip seemed a blur as the haste and caution of the ride seemed to make time whirl by. Meli was grateful to have the horse, for her day's always ended in unknown frustration and certain exhaustion. Frodo's mind continued to billow with various emotions; moments of anger and others of pity arose within him. So out of place this pity felt that she wondered to whom it was for.

She also noticed her senses become more acute and, furthermore, now, the Ring was furiously fighting from within. The weariness grew stronger and the heaviness about her neck grew more each day. Yet the worst feeling was the humiliation she shared with Frodo; the increasing yearning to feel and touch the Ring.

The very thought of this appalled her. "How could one yearn for such evil," she asked herself over and over.

Yet deep in her thoughts she understood its power and how the will of that power brought great desire. It was fierce as a physical need, like eating, breathing and sleeping. Not having the Ring physically was torment for her. She had no choice. The little elf held on to her resolve and with determination endured silently, never letting Glorfindel know, anything was amiss, at least not in words.

In spite of her efforts, he knew she suffered this battle within. He could sense her fear as dreams of the eye haunted her and he felt helpless. It brought to him memory of Frodo; wounded upon Asfaloth's back and the urgency of getting him safely to Imladris. He sighed in silent relief, that now he did not have the worry of the Nazgul on their tails. Still, though, the sense of urgency was thick and all he could do was quickly take her to Lothlorien, and pray to Ilúvatar for respite if it be his will.

So they rode on, a swift gallop on long cool days. Asfaloth never tired too quickly as though he understood the urgency and ran gently as though he understood her pain.

Meli could feel Frodo was traveling great distances. Her legs ached and her appetite was great as the need for fuel to carry him increased. Fortunately they had plenty of food and now Glorfindel used this as a way to bring humor back to her. He teased her about becoming fat as she attacked each meal, filling her mouth so full she couldn't talk. He made faces at her; blowing his cheeks out full with wide eyes and it made her choke with the giggles. It was a wonderful release and quite a successful distraction. It was just the medicine she needed.

The days blended into the beginning of March and the atmosphere was beginning to feel spring like. They were four days yet from Lothlorien and the land had become rocky. They skirted the western side of the mountain in preparation for the climb through the Redhorn Pass. Asfaloth slowed to a trot to ensure sure-footedness. Meli had been dwelling in her thoughts, of the days to come; lost in a trance-like state as her thoughts and fears pondered. However, as the ride became rough with the horse's reaction to rock and stone, she leant as far forward as she possibly could to hold on.

Her heavy thoughts faded with the feel of the mane against her cheek and she decided to take advantage of the situation. She reached as far as she could, and stroked the horse's ears with her fingertips. The sound of her voice sang sweetly, as she began to whisper cute musings. Asfaloth shook and snorted without missing a step or the silent commands Glorfindel directed with firm tugs on the headstall. Meli giggled and once again the horse snorted.

"You are a tease Little One," laughed Glorfindel. "You will never win him that way!"

"Ah!" grumbled Meli in frustration as she sat up. "How _can_ I win his love?" she asked in a silly swoon.

Glorfindel roared with laughter and offered no answer.

Meli's laugh in response was cut short by a cough as the first whiffs of a horrid odor seeped into her awareness. It became worse moment by moment until finally she asked, "What is that smell, Glorfindel? It is so heavy and foul! Is there a bog nearby?"

He looked at her puzzled. "No, little one, there are no bogs around here. I do not smell anything but the cool night air and the birth of new grass."

Her lungs begged for air as her breath became shallow until forcefully they pulled the odor deep into her lungs. "Surely you must smell it!" she cried to her companion.

"Honest Meli, I don't smell anything foul," he said curiously. She lay back down upon Asfaloth's mane and burrowed her head into the tresses; she made every attempt she could think of to rid her nostrils of the smell.

They traveled on for another hour until the sun began sinking, pulling the blackness of night down over the land. Glorfindel sat high, looking all around with his keen eyes. They marched on for about a mile until they came to a cliff wall that was surrounded by low woody brush and large boulders. As he helped her to dismount she stumbled from non-use of her exhausted legs and he caught her just in time. She blushed in embarrassment and quickly took her pack from his hands as he offered it in silent pity. Dizziness overwhelmed her from lack of air and desperately she wondered where Frodo was tonight. The night passed slowly.

"Are you not going to eat, Little One?" Glorfindel asked after a short while.

Meli looked over at the small blanket he had spread in readiness for her recent unending appetite; it was laden with apples, bread and dried meat. The taste of the meat entered her mind; its smoky flavor had been her favorite and the bread, slightly sweet seemed never to go stale. She shook her head as disgust from the putrid smell churned in her stomach. "I do not feel like eating anything tonight, thank you."

With that, she slipped away to her blanket and wearily looked up at her star until finally she drifted off to sleep with thoughts of Frodo's sweet eyes. But the rest did her no good. She awoke many times feeling a thick, slimy sensation on her feet and then later she woke to find she felt it on her hands. It repulsed her as it got worse until finally she felt it over most of her body. The smell was revolting as she rubbed her skin; her attempts to wipe away the sensation did nothing. She longed for a pool, or river to swim in. Silently she endured, knowing there was nothing Glorfindel could do for her.

Fear slowly began to enter her awareness and once again Frodo's blanket billowed. She drifted in and out restlessly in dreams of a disgusting land. Visions of faces entered her dreams; they were white and lifeless with profound horror defining their expressions. Little flickers of candles caught her and whirled her all around as though they were pulling her into deep chasms of lost time. Each time she awoke, she silently searched for Glorfindel. And he was always there, in never-ending guard with his arms folded neatly upon his mighty chest. He comforted her with his very appearance and once again she would lay down forcing away the evil thoughts and replacing with them with sweet thoughts of Frodo.

The next day the exhaustion was even more intense and the smell was really getting to her. She did not eat again that day and she wasted far too much time at the small creek they had found. Glorfindel tried to be patient, but he had to insist they be on their way. Reluctantly she left the fresh mountain water that had done her no good.

As they rode he noticed she kept her hand clenched upon her chest as though to relieve a burden. Anxiety filled him as he pushed Asfaloth on and he felt the urgency of getting her to Lothlorien was more critical than ever. However, they were interrupted once again late that afternoon, as she suddenly drew ridged and covered her head and ears as if to hide; a cold chill came over her.

She grasped at the scar on her shoulder as pain seared through, to her heart. She began coughing and choking and a great thirst began growing in her mouth. It was no use. They had to stop once more seeking the cover of the wood. Glorfindel quickly spread a blanket under a tree and wearily Meli sat down. She tipped her flask and wasted no time in draining it, but the water choked her further as she began gasping for breaths between swallows.

"Slow down, Little One." said Glordindel as he rubbed her back. "Take it easy now, breathe deeply."

Meli slowly felt the cold ease out of her body. Wearily she laid down and before she knew it she slipped again into fitful sleep, this time dreaming of strange phantoms, dark riding shapes, and faces; some known, others not. Within her dream, she had a sensation of sharing with Frodo these horrid sights and in her heart she longed only to comfort him.

She drifted in a dreamlike state until a soft sorrowful song heard deep in the echoes of her mind, carried her away from the agony; and placed her before Frodo's very eyes- a dream within a dream. She stood before him in the light of her star, illuminated and all aglow. And in _his _dream, the very sight of her, blocked out the blackness of evil and brought peace and beauty to him. And though he remembered her not upon awakening, he felt glad and lighter of heart.

All time seemed to be lost when she woke with a start, and the dusk hours had settled in. She looked all around wondering where she was. Her thoughts settled into calm when once again; she could see Glorfindel's silhouette in the distance as if he stood guard against the setting sun.

She closed her eyes again and began a soft song, a song to Frodo; once again bending all her will and her mind to him. She sang it long with love and when the sun was finally gone she too, arose feeling refreshed and lighter of heart. Sleep was not a necessity for Glorfindel and the need for speed was ever urgent so they rode swiftly into the moonlight with Meli holding tight in the saddle before him.

When they finally arrived at the edge of the woods of Lothlorien it was late morning on the twelfth day of riding. The foul smell had eventually faded and she could smell the sweet green of the grasses and brand new leaves. As they entered the wood, Meli felt a sense of safety and protection as she had never felt before. It was almost as if a veil had been placed over the treetops, but could not be seen; only felt in the depths of her awareness. After riding for about an hour they came upon a stream and Glordindel halted Asfaloth.

Climbing down he said, "These are the waters of Nimrodel. Do you remember the tales as told in the Hall of Fire, Meli?"

She smiled and replied, "Yes! I do remember! The waters are known to be healing to the weary!"

She almost jumped from the horse into his arms laughing and since she was barefoot she immediately stepped into the water tying her dress up high on her legs. Glorfindel hurriedly took off his boots. She plopped down upon a rock and began wriggling her toes in the coolness as anticipation of relief to her aching legs mingled with her dream of swimming again. She closed her eyes, absorbing the harmonious music the falls were singing, but after a while she began to frown.

"What is it?" asked Glorfindel as he stepped over a rock to sit down nearer to her.

She looked around unable to meet his gaze and said, "I don't feel anything. It is not getting better."

He looked at her puzzled. They sat for a moment in silence. Glorfindel thought about the spell and its effects. He wondered what to say, but words would not come.

Finally she said sadly, "It would have to be Frodo's feet in the water, for any relief to come. It is the healing of Frodo that heals me." He looked into her sad eyes distant in deepest brown. Her voice softened as if in shame, "I should have remembered."

Glorfindel stood up and said, "We better go now Meli."

She looked up and shook her head saying, "Oh please, lets just sit here a few more moments." She raised her shoulders and smiled sweetly to lighten the mood back to where it was.

He smiled in return but before he could blink he was drenched. Meli had begun laughing hilariously, as she threw water at him! A full-fledged water fight commenced, and they were both soaked to the bone before it was over. Birds fluttered noisily above in response and it seemed the music of the falls had turned to melodious laughter!

Asfaloth snorted grumpily. He had not been happy about the two wet bodies that climbed up upon him. However, they dried quickly from the warm southern air that flowed through the trees. The march went on through the quiet wood. The horse's steps were softened by thick grass and rich brown soil. Serenity so sweet carried Meli for the next few hours into dreams, as the weariness caught up with her. Frodo's blanket was calm and she felt safe and secure as she nodded off against Glorfindel's chest. Occasionally she would awake and look up at him, but his mind was bent on something as if he were talking to someone without words. Puzzled, yet content, she would slowly fall back into drowsiness and sleep would again take her.

It was early evening when he woke her to see the view. She gasped with awe as the sight brought memory of Gandalf's tales of the Eldar days. The trees were unlike any she had ever seen. They crowned a tall hill, that was blanketed with green grass and delicate little flowers dotted the lawns. The center trees grasped her wonder as their golden leaves shimmered in the sunset's golden rays. In its center was a white flet and she thought of the tales of Amroth.

"Mallorns!" She sighed in memory of the tales. And they rode on in Lothlorien.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 **

**City Within the Trees**

With the arrival in the city, Caras Galadhon of Lothlorien, Meli's shyness once again came upon her in urgency. They were greeted at the foot of the greatest tree in the city's center by three elves, tall and mysterious, much more so than the elves of Imladris. The thought of meeting the Lord and Lady made her increasingly nervous as memories of the dream and the mirror became vivid with the sight of the city in the trees. Though with time the aching in her legs lessened, the climb to the top of the majestic Mallorn was too much and Glorfindel had to carry her part of the way. She felt safe in his mighty arms yet had the urge to hide her face on his shoulder as they passed a flet in the tree where two elves stopped to stare at the tiny one. When they came to the great house he put her down and suddenly, her adrenaline began to flow fiercely; she knew she was about to face them.

Meli almost gasped as Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel solemnly stepped out from the house. They were the tallest she had ever seen, with profound beauty that revealed to her their expanse of time. Sensing Meli's apprehension they warmly greeted her, kneeling down to her height hoping to ease the tension. As words were spoken Meli immediately had a great sense of sharing her mind with the Lady. Though many would say this experience caused them discomfort, Meli suddenly felt at ease; it was as though the Lady knew her plight and was there to assist and comfort in the task they were about to take together. Her fear and nervousness vanished completely and almost magically she felt as if she had known the Lady all of her life.

Lord Celeborn gazed down at the little elf with warmhearted amusement. He met her eyes with adoration and Meli felt the kindness from his soul. Immediately she knew she was safe and protected.

"It is going to be alright." She thought with a sigh of relief.

They led them to a small room where food and drink were set upon a table and as they ate Meli felt inclined to fill them in on the details of the spell and her experiences. It soon became apparent though, that somehow they already knew much that had gone on.

"I have learned some from Lord Elrond, yet there is much that shadows my mind." Galadriel said with a smile. "I see now that in some subtle ways you have been able to aid Frodo without my assistance." Then in her mind Meli heard the words, "You have more in you than I knew."

And as she heard these words, it became clear to Meli why she had been summoned; and how with assistance from Galadriel they might help Frodo. She looked at the ring Galadriel wore on her finger and hope filled her heart. But something in the back of her mind held caution for she knew her own 'assistance' had been weak and unreliable.

After the meal, as Glorfindel and Celeborn left for a walk, to talk over happenings in the war; Galadriel sensed Meli's weariness. She led her to a room she had set up nearby to her own so that she would be near if anything were to happen in the night. After she showed her around the room, she left the little elf alone with wishes of sweet slumbers. Meli fell into a deep sleep, and once again found herself on the white ship, standing in the darkness looking up to her star.

"Earendil," she said aloud in her sleep. Her thoughts then turned to love and there he was once more. Still, she could not see his face nor hear his words. He put his arms around her in a warm embrace and held her for a long while. Serenity filled her with warmth, soothing her deeply within. His body was firm, yet soft and desire filled her. Then he took her hand and kissed it tenderly. She heard the gentle murmur of his voice and felt her own voice in answer, but she did not know the words. Softly he laid his lips upon hers, sweetly and her heart pulsed as he kissed her in the tender breeze of the sundering sea.

It was late. Everyone had succumbed to sleep when Galadriel awoke with a noise. She arose and as she entered the outer flet from the bedrooms, she saw Meli walking down the stairs. She followed her softly as she realized the tiny elf was still asleep as she walked. The Lady feared that the little elf would fall so she followed closely, but curiosity and concern at not startling her made her hold back a little bit. When they reached the ground level, Meli walked over to the base of the tree and she cuddled up into a small cozy area between the great roots. A deeper sleep seemed to take her. Galadriel smiled, for this was the spot where Frodo had slept under the pavilion when _he_ was her guest. She went back up and brought down a blanket and pillows to gently provide for Meli's comfort. She stroked the little elf's ear softly and smiled at her sweetness. Gladness filled the Lady's heart as the love she saw for Frodo was revealed.

The next morning Meli woke early. Looking around, she realized she was not in the room she had fallen asleep in the previous night. This did not alarm her, for somehow she knew, right away where she was and it felt right. She arose to find the sun peeking through the golden leaves spotting the grass like shimmering diamonds. As wondrous as this place looked at night, it was equally wondrous in daylight. The white Nephredil and golden Elanor were just beginning to bloom, as early spring opened its sleepy eyes. She walked the grounds, basking in the wondrous beauty. She inhaled deeply, the cool morning air. A golden leaf fell gently rocking its way to the soft blades of grass, and it landed before Meli's feet. She picked it up.

As she admired its beauty Glorfindel approached her and sang out, loud and cheerful, "It is a glorious morning to awake in Caras Galadhon, is it not?"

Meli smiled warmly in reply, "Yes, it is glorious!"

He kneeled down and as he stroked one dimple on her cheek, he said, "You fit right in among all this beauty, little one."

Meli blushed deeply and poked his shoulder playfully, saying, "You tease me, Glorfindel, way too much!"

His look became serious and his tone sad when he replied, "No, little one. I do not tease about that. I shall be sad to leave you this morning, for I have much enjoyed your company."

Meli looked at him in alarm; "You can not leave so soon! Why?"

"I must," he said. "I have to get back and help to provide safety and support for our people in Imladris. Their army is much too small for my comfort."

With these words came understanding for Meli, but she still was unhappy to see him go. She hugged his neck warmly and whispered into his ear, "I shall never forget you Mellon Nîn."

Once more he caressed her dimple and said as he stood, "You stay safe, little one. I wish these were different circumstances and different times so that I did not have to worry about you, though I am confident you are in safe hands."

With that said, they walked hand in hand in search of breakfast.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 **

**The Dark Terror**

Meli's time in Lothlorien was not long, but it was to be the most vivid in her life's memories. Much of it seemed as if it were a dream and not a reality. The enchantment of this land, mingled with the effects of the Ring and her enhanced emotions would have been far too much for a heart to bear; but this little elf was strong willed and the love she bore even stronger, giving her hope beyond all edges of time.

Frodo's pace did not lesson for the first few days as far as Meli could feel, yet the pain in her legs began to fade a bit.

"He's getting stronger," she encouraged herself.

Although the weight of the dreadful Ring and its nagging evil continued to haunt her, it felt like a reprieve had come upon him wherever his travels were taking him and she felt somewhat comforted for a little while.

Meli took pleasure in this time, walking with Galadriel and enjoying the beauty of Lorien as they spoke of the days of the Eldar. Many questions were asked as she eagerly consumed all the history the Lady was willing to share. She reveled in the telling of the Lady's days in Aman and shivered upon hearing of her tragic journey crossing the Grinding Ice of Helcaraxë. Many elves were lost in that fateful journey among the host of Fingolfin and its memory strengthened Galadriel's resolve to do all in her power to rid this land of the evil that had scarred it.

Meli listened intently as the Lady continued with her account of the battles of Beleriand and they shared tears with the memory of the fall of Doriath. Galadriel spoke with reverence of her relationship with Lady Melian, the glorious queen of that land. Meli could see the longing deep in the Lady's eyes as she turned to the west in anticipation of reunion with the fair Maia. It gave Meli strength to realize her plight was minute in the scope of it all. All of this served as an effective distraction for her as well; it helped to keep her mind off of the emotions of the present.

On the second night as they walked the southern slopes of the hill, Galadriel led her through a high green hedge into an enclosed garden. They descended many steps into a great hollow and to Meli's delight the babble of a silver stream gurgled gently from atop the hill. The Lady led her over to a small basin. As they neared Meli recognized it as the mirror she had seen in her dream. They had not spoken of the dream as yet, but it had been waiting on the tip of her mind as she held it back; she feared to bring it forward.

Galadriel looked at her with deep probing eyes, as she began communicating with Meli only with thought. "You know what this is. You have seen it before."

"Yes," thought Meli in answer, trying with all her will to not remember the vision of the eye. "Please my Lady," Meli pleaded, "please, I have no wish to look, for I could not bear it."

Galadriel's look softened. "I do not ask you to look, though you may if you wish."

Meli's gaze drew down to the Lady's hand. This power the Lady had with this ring could be felt deeply within Meli and now suddenly she understood even more. She had never thought of herself as a Ringbearer. Frodo had the ring in _his_ possession, not she. Still somehow she had found a way to wield its power, reaching Frodo in the heat of her passion.

"Take it off!" she had told him. And he did. She thought about the spell. **_All dire feeling shall be felt in thy love _**She thought about Gandalf's words to the council, **"_The Ring is altogether evil!" _**She eyed Nenya, the ring of adamant, a ring _altogether good_; yet bound to the One. Sorrow filled her heart for the doom that was to befall this far land, whether the quest was successful or not.

Galadriel continued to share her thought with Meli, "Keep hope in your heart Melanna. This evil may touch us all, but then even the smallest person can change the course of the world. We must have faith in Frodo."

Meli looked at her as tears welled in her eyes at the sound of his name and she said aloud. "I do keep hope, I do." And that hope never wavered although the days to follow grew ever darker in the depths of her soul

The reprieve was far too short when a new day dawned. Celeborn was busied continually now with breaches on the borders of Lothlorien. The Orcs were scrambling about the lands in a flurry of activity that seemed to hold determined purpose in its evil plan. Meli's moments of fear grew with intensity and now she and Frodo felt a new frustration. Feelings of pain on her wrists began cutting as though they were tied and she realized Frodo was being held in bondage and could not escape. Though fear and frustration were present, Meli was able to discern that Frodo was being held by a foe, though not of evil. She immediately expressed these feelings to Galadriel and with the Lady's knowledge of his direction and of the geography of that area; she determined that he must be with the men of the south.

Gondorean rangers were known to patrol those lands lead by a Captain; Lord Faramir was his name. His name was well known among the Lothlorien Elves, for he was the son of the steward, Lord Denethor. The elves knew well the history of the Gondoreans. They were a stout and proud race, men descended from the notorious Númenóreans whose friendship with the elves had been honorable long ago. Now a familiar fear had once again come upon Meli as she recalled her history of Isildur; that the Ring could fall into the hands of weaker minds and the quest of Frodo utterly fail.

Galadriel sat in meditation for a moment. Her eyes glistened as the sun streamed through the leaves in tiny beams that swirled in what seemed like radiant peace. The little elf watched her intently as she sensed the power within her simmer and her face grew grave.

Suddenly Meli could feel the presence of Elrond and Celeborn as the Lady's voice began to echo in her mind; words that pierced Meli with fear as truth was expressed. "The world is changed; I can feel it in the water, I can feel it in the earth, I can smell it in the air. The power of the enemy is growing. Sauron will use his puppet, Saruman, to destroy the people of Rohan. Isengard has been unleashed. The Eye of Sauron now turns to Gondor, the last free kingdom of Men. His war on this country will come swiftly. He senses the Ring is close."

Then to Meli's dismay, the Lady spoke the words the little elf in all her love, had dared not to think, "The strength of the Ringbearer is failing. In his heart, Frodo begins to understand …the quest will claim his life."

Meli gasped as she looked upon the Lady with pleading eyes; eyes begging her to take back those words. Yet she knew in her own heart, that this was true.

Galadriel looked intently at the little elf as she continued speaking to Elrond, "You know this. You have foreseen it. It is the risk we all took. In the gathering dark, the will of the Ring grows strong. It works hard now to find its way back into the hands of Men; Men who are so easily seduced by its power. The young captain of Gondor has but to extend his hand; take the Ring for his own and the world will fall. It is close now; so close to achieving its goal. For Sauron will have dominion over all life on this Earth even unto to the ending of the world. The time of the Elves is over. Do we leave Middle-Earth to its fate? Do we let them stand alone?"

It took no time for thought to answer. Quickly it was decided. Doom or die, Celeborn and Elrond's orders went out among their armies; and they sent forth a great company of elves. And the Last Alliance was no longer the last. New hope for men was kindled.

That night as Meli dozed beneath the great tree, her dreams wound in and out of the events of the previous day. She longed to cry, to hold herself tightly, but she could not let go as her hope gently caressed her love deep within her. She used it to ease her mood until finally she slipped into a contented sleep, but it was interrupted when suddenly she awoke to profound feelings of pity. It was the same feelings of pity that she had experience before, only now its intensity was severe. Frodo's feelings tugged at her conscience and they dared her to think of inflicting death upon a feeble being. Shock and shame filled her as though Frodo were debating within himself in agony. Suddenly it dawned on her. She had tasted this pity before, as Bilbo recounted his encounter with the creature Gollum. She got up and began pacing, stopping only to cool her face in the fountain. Worry forced its way to the front of her feelings as she pondered the possibilities that the creature still sought the Ring.

"Of course!" she thought. "He would never have been able to let it go." She frowned sadly and said softly to herself, "Perhaps it _would_ be best to put the creature out of his misery." But the taste of pity was bitter and as Frodo's feelings began to fade, she knew he had spared him. Once more she curled up to try to sleep, but sleep would not come.

The next day Meli's legs began to ache again as though she were being forced to walk a pace beyond normal for Frodo's short legs. As the day wore on she felt his frustration intensify. She wondered if he would be able to escape the clutches of this mysterious man.

"Faramir," she thought, sounding his name in her mind. "It seems like such an honorable name."

This much she knew; he had not yet taken the Ring from Frodo, for the weight of it pulled ever stronger upon her body and soul. And she knew from the depths of the frustration, that Frodo was powerless to do anything about his situation. The day slowly slid onward with a stillness that settled in the trees. It was as though the entire world was waiting and watching; to see what was going to happen.

Meli was restless. She paced around the lawn, aggravating the aching in her legs as she rubbed her wrists with worry. Late afternoon arrived in such stillness that she felt a foreboding was sensed by the trees. Then it happened; her emotions exploded as cold fear began to take her! She sensed a presence that froze her heart to the core and panic seized her as she ran to find Galadriel who had gone up to her flet in the trees. Meli climbed the stairs painfully, grasping and pulling at the rail and calling the Lady's name in desperate screams! Galadriel emerged from the house and began running down to her.

Terror was on Meli's face when suddenly she stopped and shrieked, "The eye is upon him!" She stood frozen, covering her ears as searing pain burned them. Galadriel reached her just in time and caught her as her eyes began rolling back and she began to fall into a trance like state.

The Lady cradled her and attempted to coax her back. "Meli!" she cried as she called to Frodo through her thoughts desperately trying to get through.

Meli was limp in her arms with a wicked smile across her lips. The Lady shuttered as she began carrying her down the steps when suddenly the little elf flew into a furry flaying her arms about! She began fighting Galadriel as though she were the enemy! Galadriel stumbled, but she managed to make it to ground level before she was forced to let go. Meli dropped to the ground with a thud and jerked up again in a rage screaming through clenched teeth as she lunged towards the Lady with fists flying. Galadriel seized her by the wrists and held her tightly when suddenly she stopped, stunned as their eyes met. It was as though she had just recognized her.

Meli covered her eyes in shame and began to say over and over, "I am so sorry, I am so sorry."

Weary, she fell to her knees as Galadriel took her into her arms again and she held her with whispering comfort, "It is alright, shhh it is alright now." This sweet voice as lovely as song soothed Meli's heart although deep down, the power of the Ring simmered in waiting.

By dusk, when the evening sky greyed upon the farewells of the sun, great relief finally came over Meli. She no longer felt bound and the thick blanket of Frodo's frustration released her.

She smiled at the Lady with a heavy sigh. "It is over. He is safe. He is free."

It was now ten days into March and it seemed for the last two days, Frodo was given another reprieve. Meli could tell he continued to trek onward, the Ring heavier than ever, but his emotions were lighter without fear and danger. She had spent the last two days, resting and reflecting on the glory of spring in Lothlorien.

Many of the golden leaves now had fallen and the ground was carpeted in their glory. The trees were beginning to bloom yellow flowers giving the aura of golden light upon silver pedestals. It was as breathtaking and as wonderful as Galadriel's smile and Celeborn marveled at his treasure, holding his Lady close in the early morning mist high upon the telain. With remembrance of long ago, Meli sighed with desire as she viewed them up above. Yearning thoughts of Frodo put song on her lips and she sang sweetly, her velvety voice echoing far into the blossoms on the trees;

_**A star shines upon us! Alas! Come sail with me, my love; my treasure! I give my love to you! I give my love to you!**_

_**Gíl sila amen!**_

_**Nae! Tolo revia go nín!**_

_**Veleth nín; mîr nín**_

_**Le anon veleth nín!**_

_**Le anon veleth nín!**_

Alas, as glorious as the morning was, it did not last the day. As he traveled on, nearer to evil lands, Frodo's melancholy settled deeper into his soul. Meli began to sense that he did not feel he would ever come back. His sense of foreboding covered her with his thick blanket of emotion, and she teetered back and forth on the edge of despair. With determination she battled it; her strong will held tightly on to her hope and she spoke to him often. She wasn't sure if she was really getting through, she never was sure. But it helped her to cope.

With all of the dangers that Frodo was continually facing, the nearer he drew to Mordor, the more vivid Meli felt the cold chill of paranoia; the heaviness of the ring as it called to its Master, and the screeching pain in her heart as the Nazgul searched for the one.

Now it came to a point when the exhaustion became far too heavy. There were moments when Meli was unable to do much but sit upon the lawn, or lie upon her bed. She was thankful Frodo was strong, for she knew _he_ continued to travel, weary as he might feel. However, she was carrying the fear for two and at times it was overbearing for her, yet she never complained. Galadriel admired her bravery as the days melded together in Lothlorien. Meli did not know how many she had spent there thus far.

Her need for sleep was ever increasing; an unusual amount needed for an elf, and with it came dreams, some frightening. At one time, she awoke in desperation with the sensation of being dragged by the evil Ring into the clutches of doom! The great screeching noise returned to tear at her ears and fear riddled her to the core. And once again she felt the piercing blade of the Witch King rip through her shoulder as though it were happening anew! She trembled on her cushion as she debated whether to alert Galadriel. But the fear and pain subsided and she slipped back into exhausted sleep.

Galadriel sensed the struggles the little elf was encountering in her dreams and she felt the need to keep her safe and away from the stairs. So she set up a bed of her own nearby to Meli to be ever present in case of need. In this way, no opportunity would be missed to use this evil spell for the good and she spent many an hour watching the little elf sleep. This and their waking moments together brought deep bonding between the two. As Galadriel looked upon her sleeping face one night, she marveled at the strength and power such a little one could have. Still she felt a motherly instinct to protect her. It made her think of her own daughter, Celebrian.

It was only a few days ago that she had told Meli of her fate. Strong and beautiful, she had married into loving bliss with Elrond, bearing him three children. But that bliss was ripped away when in traveling to Lothlorien she was captured by Orcs and suffered a poison wound. Her twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir rescued her, but the wound brought great evil that Elrond could not completely heal. She endured immense suffering and could no longer cope with life in Middle Earth. Finally she sailed into the west to find relief. Galadriel told Meli of her longing to join her daughter in the Blessed Realm, to live in peace and love forever more.

They spoke of her granddaughter Arwen and celebrated her beauty, the likeness of Luthien of which she was descended. Meli recalled the tale of Luthien and Beren as she had heard long ago with Frodo in her sight. Her love simmered within her and mingled with the sadness of the tale.

Then Galadriel sadly looked at Meli and said, "The fate of Arwen's will be that of Luthien's. For I see her heart and she has now turned her path, forsaking immortal life forever."

Meli thought about that last night she saw Arwen and Aragorn together before the nine departed from Imladris. She spoke words of comfort to the Lady about their love for one another, pouring her feelings for Frodo into the words, hoping Galadriel would understand.

Galadriel giggled softly. "Yes Meli, I understand for I was once young with new love, although it was long ago." Her eyes grew bright with light as she spoke of how her love for Celeborn had grown and matured over the years. Then the light faded and she said, "The fate of Arwen Undomiel is yet to be determined."

The next day, Meli had been lying upon her cushions, passing in and out of weariness when great fear and anger came upon her. Frodo's blanket became heavy as though the burden of betrayal had weighed it down. This feeling stayed with her until the early hours of the next morning as the ever presence of weariness continued on. Tired as she was, she rose from her bed, hoping a walk would be a good source of distraction. She began gathering fallen flowers and leaves laying them into a small woven basket she carried; then she plaited them together intricately, forcing her mind to concentrate on their green slender stems. She was desperately trying to focus on anything other than the blanket. It was no use.

The feeling was consuming her as it grew worse. Then unexpectedly it became mingled with a horrid smell and a stifling feeling of claustrophobia! Galadriel watched her, feeling helpless and concerned. It went on for so long, hours; pressing ever more tightly with each moment that crept by! Finally Meli began to think the weariness would make her collapse when abruptly she was revived with adrenaline and her breathing became deep and rushed. The odor made her choke as she began to shake uncontrollably.

"What is it, Meli," asked the Lady. She could not answer at first; her eyes clenched tight and she was grasping her chest tightly.

Finally she managed to exclaim, "It is so dark, so dark!"

With that, the Lady took her hand and as their eyes met Meli felt the Lady's thoughts and held them, willing all of her heart to Frodo as the fear shook her. Suddenly she could feel his mind as though he acknowledged them! Meli held tight!

Galadriel shuddered and gently whispered, "The light Frodo, the Light of Earendil!" Meli had never before felt such exhilaration and suddenly she cried out, "Aiya Earendil Elenion Ancalima!"

She began to pant harder as though Frodo were running. Terror was chasing her and her legs ached as though in overuse; pain battered her body as if she were falling. She felt bruised but desperately she held herself tight, her arms wrapped around her own body. Then it stopped abruptly as though she had been caught and she felt as though she were hanging, with a sticky slimy sensation on her skin.

Then in taunting aggravation she thought she heard someone sing, "Why does it cry?"

Fierce anger began welling up in her and she began thrashing at the air, trying to break free! It was so sticky, such a revolting sensation, its evil grasping! Slinging her arms, she frantically tried to gain control of herself until finally she felt as though she broke free! She fell to the ground panting again; Frodo was running! Moments passed and she desperately begged in her heart for it to be over. Pain came to her again and now she felt as though she were being struck, her hair was being pulled, she writhed and thrashed! Fierce rage came over her, a frantic panic as though the Ring was slipping from her and she cared for _nothing _but to stop it.

Ferocious energy flowed through her and she felt her hands squeezing as if choking the life out of evil with desire to kill simply to keep the Ring; and the voice came to her again begging, "it was the precious! It was the precious!"

Suddenly it all stopped as deep shame saturated her and she felt shock at what she could have done. She fell to her knees, her head in her hands gasping and trembling. Yet it was not over. A sudden blow to her side and she was knocked to the ground a new fear driving her hands to groping, but unable in frustration to catch whatever it was.

Galadriel took her into her arms and held her tight as she stroked her forehead. Meli heaved in sad relief. The despair was thick and between sighs, she cried out, "He's let go, he's given in!" and she fainted in Galadriel's arms. Galadriel took her hands, enveloping them tight between her own and closed her eyes. With determined concentration but light as a smoke gently wafting through her thoughts she willed her mind to Frodo's aid, drawing him in, entering his dreams.

_Falling, falling… into oblivion Frodo no longer controlled where he may land. He was physically spent, totally worn; emotionally incapable to take anymore. He began falling into the Ring's dark hollows of evil. The Lady caught him and dragged him out of the black; to let him fall instead upon the leaves and green grasses of sweet beauty. He became aware and looked up at her; radiant and beautiful. _

_Boldly she reminded him_ _"This task was appointed to you, Frodo of the Shire. If you do not find a way, no one will." _

_He searched her eyes; his face sad and his brow forlorn. These words so wise and true brought him back to reality and within seconds all the good things in the world were remembered and he knew what he was fighting for. In determination and with pursed lips he took her offered hand. She smiled radiant and bright as she lifted him up; setting him back on course._

Meli awoke; new energy flowed through her. She looked up at Galadriel, into her eyes; eyes so deep and stunning and she smiled. They sat for a while on the lawn, in relief, neither one speaking; comforted by the sweet peaceful sounds of the birds and the wind gently rustling the leaves of the great Mallorn.

Meli could feel the growing wariness of Frodo's thought and knew he was once again moving through Mordor. She could also feel a sense of loneliness and regret and wondered if Frodo _was_ alone in that forsaken land. She sat in meditation trying her best to calm herself, wishing so badly she could get through to his mind, to pass all the strength she had left to him. But the power of the evil that had taken his body was too great for this little elf and she could not shake the feeling that she was failing him. She looked at Galadriel, who watched her, the brightness of her power radiating from her tresses and she felt thankful. Again she smiled at her as weary as she was. Galadriel returned the smile, her beauty filling Meli's heart with hope. Yet the evil would not let them rest.

Suddenly a piercing sting pricked the back of Meli's neck! Galadriel looked at her in surprise as her breath was completely taken away, her face reddened as saliva dripped from her mouth and slowly she keeled over into oblivion.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 **

**The Darkest Hours**

Galadriel worked feverishly trying to revive Meli but it was no use. The tiny elf lay limp, her breathing so shallow, it was barely noticeable. The terror had penetrated far beyond the Lady's powers and there was nothing she could do, but wait and hope. She gently carried Meli to her bed and stroked her forehead whispering words to her and to Frodo; urging them to wake up. Many hours passed, but she did not leave Meli for one moment.

Celeborn sensed the grief his wife was feeling and came down to sit with her in offering of his support. The elves of Lorien sang soft songs and their melodies flowed mournfully through the leaves. However, the dark powers would not give them peace. Soon Celeborn was called away with urgent matters of Orcs penetrating the borders of this peaceful land once again.

Many hours passed. The waiting and the unknown were agonizing to the elves. Then finally, to the delight of all, Meli's eyes opened. She looked into the lovely eyes of the Lady smiling down at her. She wanted badly to grasp the comfort and peace they conveyed. But as she sat up her wrists burned as though they were bound and the intense fear within Frodo's blanket pulled at her. Looking all about her in confusion suddenly her hands went to her chest groping, looking for the Ring. Terror crossed her face as she looked upon the startled Lady.

Then she cried out "It is gone! The Ring is gone!"

Meli stood and began to pace as she rubbed her neck where the weight of the dreadful thing had pulled. A panicked feeling poured over her and she began to ache for it. She wanted to scream, to cry and to tear out her hair. Intense shame came over her for longing so fiercely for evil, but she could not deny it. Raw and real its presence was thick. Holding her head in her hands, she looked all around as if to find the answers. A vision of Frodo's blue eyes came before her and she wondered how he would escape the hands of the hideous orcs whose smell had come to her; it was an odor she had smelled before, long ago in Carasdolen. Suddenly a vision came to her mind; it was the face of Giliath as he lay in death, then it was replaced with Frodo's face! She shuttered and shook it from her mind.

"No!" she demanded of her thoughts, "He will find a way!"

Galadriel felt her own despair as she slowly stood and walked over to the fountain. She sat down at its edge and gently stroked the water in thought. Its waters rippled creating a lovely flower dance with the lilies that sat on the surface.

"Such beauty this world beholds," she thought. Then she turned her eyes to Meli and said "It is only a matter of time now."

Meli stopped her pacing and stood still. They held each other in thought, though the light did not go out in their eyes, for a small ray of hope still burned within them.

A while later, Meli lay upon her cushion staring off into space, as deep melancholy had forcefully seeped in. She felt the danger intensely and the words of Galadriel rang over and over in her mind, "It is only a matter of time".

The yearning in her heart for the Ring was tearing at her mingling with her grief and fear for Frodo. Galadriel sat by her side holding her hand; her eyes were distant as though she were in a far off place; and all of Lorien was quiet. Then all of a sudden Meli jumped as if an abrupt new fear startled her. It was though it was the second before sure death! Seconds seemed like hours as her eyes grew wide and she braced for the worse.

But in an instant it was gone! All the fear washed away and she cried out, "Sam!"

She sat up confused, as a feeling of betrayal then clouded over her. A deep resentment began to boil in her and a fierce lusting for the Ring invaded her! Galadriel stood back, startled at the look on Meli's face. Meli's eyes became stern as they stabbed at the Lady, but her mind whirled in confusion. Then in an instant, a sudden weight pulled at her neck. Her hand flew to her chest; the weight of the dreadful Ring had returned!

A heaving sigh escaped her lips and she cried to Galadriel, "It is back, it is back!"

Meli sat down heavily in relief. She marveled at how such evil could bring her happiness. And once again they knew Frodo was on his way.

The next ten days passed slowly as each day brought more agony to Meli. She felt that Frodo's strength lessened with each step he took, as fear, exhaustion, thirst, and foul air took their toll on him. She could no longer see the beauty of Lorien and all was dark and brown from her eyes. The music did not touch her ears nor did the bird's song lighten her heart. The Ring grew heavier. Its weight had become unbearable as it pulled at her neck; it rubbed her raw and made her bleed. It fought constantly with Frodo's will, pulling at him and begging him into the darkness. Bitter was the taste of its constant yearning for the Dark Lord.

All concept of time was lost to Meli as she trembled in her sleep; reduced to lying upon her cushion, unable and unwilling to move. In some dreams she could see the land clearly and she knew Frodo was in the very depths of doom. Crawling upon rock and dirt she saw _herself_ struggle up a massive mountain; the rocks were sharp and cut her as she climbed. Or was it Frodo? Her reality had become muddled and grey. Her fear for his life was intense, even to the point of wishing for death to end his agony. Deep in her thoughts she could feel Frodo's will breaking, his hope waning, yet something, or someone was coaxing him onward for he would have fallen had it not. So somehow a tiny ember of hope burned deep inside _her_.

The Lady did her best to tend Meli's every need, as the small elf grew ever weaker. She sat by her side, never leaving her alone and softly whispered words of encouragement. At one moment she held her hands when Meli batted at some unknown foe. Helplessly, she watched as the little elf faded deeper into darkness. Yet she too never gave up hope, for Meli was able to communicate with her, to let her know that Frodo trudged on.

The tenth day arrived in golden wonder as the land of Lothlorien continued to glisten in springtime. Meli still lay on her cushion, in darkness completely unaware of the beauty around her. In and out of dreams, her weakness commanded her as constant worry for Frodo compounded the state she was in. Galadriel knelt by her side and placed a fresh blanket over her to ease her trembling. She then lifted the little elf's head and began feeding her warm broth. Meli drank deeply as the unending thirst and hunger growled within her. Then she laid back down to fall into another dream. Her vision rolled over the land once again, its soil dark grey and its air choked with fume. She caught sight of a tower, black and jagged, illuminated by the flicker of tiny torches against a grey-black sky. Her eyes scaled its vast walls, as though they were being pulled, not by her power, but lured by a lustful evil that shook her within. And when they glimpsed the top, there he was, the very core of hatred that riddled all the land; the eye of Sauron! Her hand jerked for her neck as it groped for the ring, and her adrenaline pulsed with fear! Abruptly, to her relief the evil sensation subsided. There was something good happening, something had to be helping Frodo along the way.

She thought of Sam and his name echoed in her mind, "Sam". Somehow, just the thought of his name, gave _her_ a little comfort too.

Her dreams continued however, with the harrowing nightmares for hours after, although the burden had lightened considerably. She felt as though much of the burden had lifted with a sensation of floating in the air up the massive mount as her heart pounded in anticipated fear. She woke for a moment, opening her eyes in wonder then closed them again with a sigh.

Galadriel held the little elf tightly through much of her ordeal. She longed to help; to move all of her will, to give Frodo strength, to reach him somehow. However, the Ring had taken him beyond the realms of the Lady's mind, and he was now too far gone.

The battles on Lorien's borders became intense. Word had come to them that Gondor had prevailed in battle on the fields of the Pelennor. The elves rejoiced cautiously, for the armies were now marching on the Black Gate. Galadriel understood that this was a diversion to draw the enemy's eye away from Frodo, so with bated breath she watched Meli's every movement. However, things only got worse. A period of time came when she could not even speak or open her eyes, although she seemed to be on the edge of waking. Several hours passed slowly, fearfully.

All was quiet save the gentle flutter of the wind in the leaves and the soft sighs that came from Meli's lips as she sought clean air. Her dreams had ceased, replaced by a black void as she floated along.

Suddenly a great weight smote her and pain seared through her body! Roused into a sudden fury, she thrashed about as if trying to avoid blows. Galadriel stood back, amazed at the energy that had erupted from the little elf. Meli began gagging, choking and holding her neck. She stood as if to run away, but Galadriel caught her and held her arms as she panted in a fury. Many elves gathered around, watching with fear. Meli felt as though she were running in fierce determination to protect the Ring, but a feeling of betrayal taunted her from within; it felt as though she herself; or was it Frodo that now threatened her precious! The sour taste of confusion returned and the energy continued to flow within her. The elves waited breathlessly for her next move. She stood motionless eyes wide and glassy. A tremendous pulling within her heart made her sweat. Her body was shaking inside and out as she felt great battle of wills within her. Once again, she bent all of her will to Frodo pouring all the strength she had left to give _him_ strength. But once again she knew she could not reach him, for the evil Ring had him tightly within its grasp.

Darkness again poured over her and she was removed from within herself. She was thrust back into the black void, lost and frightened yet awake and aware. The Ring searched for the Eye and was blazing with anger and malice!

Galadriel feared the look in her eyes and to her horror, Meli exclaimed with a wicked smile, "The Ring is mine."

Shock and dread filled the air. She was gone! This was not Melanna of the Colter Elves. It was as though the very eye of Sauron was looking out at them from within her soul. The elves stepped back in terror. Anger filled her eyes and she began thrashing about as if fighting some unseen foe. Fearing she would be hurt, Galadriel grabbed her from behind holding her arms close to her body and suddenly she shrieked in agonizing pain as blood began gushing from her hand. To Galadriel's horror she saw Meli's finger was gone!

She let go in an instant of shock as the little elf fell to her knees, holding her hand, crying out in pain. Blood was everywhere, staining their dresses and the other elves stepped forward to aid them. But rage came across Meli's face as she came to herself again. Desperation to destroy the evil Ring drove her to madness as it mingled with desire to possess it again. She stood up grabbing at an unseen foe, thrashing about, jerking and pulling. It went on for a moment, as the elves all stepped back again in fear. Then suddenly she fell to the ground again. All was quiet for an instant.

Softly she began to cry, "No Frodo! No! Do not let go! Then she shrieked, "Do not leave me! Do not let go!"

All the elves stood around watching her, the shock still thick in the air. Meli gasped with a smile as she struggled to catch her breath. A grand mixture of emotions filled her; relief, fear, urgency. She knew Frodo was running, and she felt pain as if landing hard upon rock. Moments held them till her breathing slowed and she sat up and looked all around her as if she had just woke from a horrible dream. She looked at each face as they looked upon her with pity in their eyes.

Suddenly she could see the sunshine, the flowers, smell the fresh beautiful air of Lorien, and hear the birds. Her heart felt lighter and great joy pulsed through her. Galadriel fell to her knees before her, taking her hand and wrapping it with a cloth someone had brought to her to stop the bleeding. Meli looked in wonder at her beauty.

She looked again at the faces around her and saw their elegance, their wonder and with a heavy sigh exclaimed, "It is done! It is gone!"

Galadriel began laughing, as tears traced her cheeks, and said, "Yes, Meli. It is done."

But for Meli, the despair was not yet over, for now she felt Frodo's heart give in, in acceptance of death. She slowly lay back down on the grass and gave in also, as she fell into unconsciousness.

Galadriel brushed a tear from her own cheek, but the tears continued to fall. She had felt the destruction of the Ring, the moment it was gone; like a heavy shadow lifting, from the very depths of her soul. But the doom of the elves had now begun. Slowly the power of Nenya would begin to diminish and all the land would be laid bare, vulnerable. The other elves began to disperse, allowing her some privacy, while a few stayed to help her clean up the blood. She arose from the lawn and gently carried Meli to her bed. She took a cloth and wet it in the fountain on the lawn. Carefully and softly she cleansed the sweet little elf that she had grown to love, as her tears mingled with the water. Leaning down, she kissed her forehead and passed to her peaceful slumber; to last for healing, or to pass into the Halls of Mandos; whichever was her fate.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 **

**Healing Begins**

Meli slept many days, healing in the peaceful slumber that Galadriel had placed upon her. The first few days were uncertain as to whether she would pull through. Her sleep was fitful and breathing was difficult; then finally she passed into a dream that would eventually calm her. It was in that dream that she found herself by Frodo's side where he also slept in healing slumbers on the south end of the fair land of Ithilien.

_**Meli's eyes slowly opened at the sound of a voice, "I will let you rest now for a while Frodo, dear Frodo." **_

_**The healer tenderly wrapped the last of the white cloth around the little Hobbit's hand and laid it upon his breast. Meli arose from her cushion as the healer slipped through the green mist of the trees and she wondered who he was, for he held a presence of reverence. She turned to Frodo and her throat thickened at the sight of what his toil had done to him. She brushed a lock of hair from his soiled brow. Pale and thin, his body lay limp in devastating weariness as his breathing was interrupted with small gasps. The black soil of evil stained his face, his body, his lungs and he was cut and bruised. Meli looked down at his hand and it made her own** **hand throb with pain. Slowly she picked up the soft cloth left soaking in water and Athelas, a healing herb. Its aromatic qualities, so sweet and soothing, had already begun its work to ease their pains. Gently she began to cleanse the foul black soot from his sweet face. With each stroke, she poured her love as she wiped away all the sadness, all the despair, all the evil of Mordor. His breathing calmed and he now slept peacefully. She sighed and laid her own weariness by his side; her body hugged close to his and she warmed him as she joined him in the serenity of slumber, while the birds sang sweetly upon the beech bows above.**_

Galadriel inhaled the sweet smell of Athelas coming from Meli's warming body, and knew at that moment that Frodo would live. All worry for Meli left her. She placed her in the hands of her dearest elves and turned her mind to the east.

The orcs were relentless. Once again they attacked the borders of Lorien in a rage of panic. Fierce and terrible they were as their instinct drove them to survive. Yet without the cunning guidance of their wicked Master, their demise was swift, for the elves of Lorien had grown ever stronger in their jubilation! _Now_ the elves had the opportunity to prevail once and for all upon the corruption of Dol Guldur. So three days later, Galadriel joined Celeborn and they crossed the Anduin for battle. Upon arrival as Celeborn led his armies against the foes, Galadriel climbed the tallest hill. She looked out at the lands and grief came over her. The land had become so riddled with evil that the color was nearly gone; it was consumed by the darkness of Sauron. The smell of the air was thick and rank and the sight of the gnarled musty forest made her heart ache. Determination swelled in her as she remembered all the anguish this evil had laid upon the land and the good people of Middle Earth over the vast ages of her life.

She raised her arms high as she bent all her will; she shook with intensity to the very core of her being and the earth about her trembled and quaked. Nenya shined its brightest and her eyes were horrible as she threw down the walls of the atrocious Dol Guldur; crumbling every stone to dust upon the earth. A great stillness settled upon the land with a quiet so tranquil, her heart could be heard as it calmed. With a sigh, she lay down upon the hill to rest and as the warmth of her body warmed the grass, it became a fair green that began to spread far upon all the land as the beauty of Galadriel returned joy to the forest once again. The animals awakened from the clutches of evil and the birds now returned in swift fluttering song! Flora burst in beauty as the blackened waters dissolved in the splendor of sweet new rain. And all throughout the echoes of the wood, music could be heard in the songs of the fair Valar!

On the thirteenth day from the fall of Sauron, Meli finally awoke. Slowly her eyes opened from her peaceful state and the first sight she saw was the smiling eyes of Lady Galadriel. Blue and crystal they gleamed like jewels caught in a ray of sun and her raiment glittered in silver shimmers upon the brightest white. Her soft hand stroked Meli's cheek and the little elf blushed with great joy that filled her heart; Frodo was alive! She softly giggled in the hugs of the beautiful Lady and serenity filled her heart in deep jubilation. She arose and danced around the green grasses in gleeful songs of gratitude and the resonance of harps rang out from every tree!

Celebration carried on for days, as if the last breath from the great toil had finally been spent and peace now warmed the hearts of all. Music flowed, rejoicing in thankful song through gleeful flutes and euphoric voices. A great pavilion was erected as feasts were prepared of roast beasts, lush fruits and sweet breads; and the aromas mingled with the sweet laughter of the Niphredil as it blossomed anew! Once again Meli was able to relish the beauty of Lorien; she mingled with the elves, walked the forests in serenity and basked in the sun upon golden leaves as they lie in their glory. It was magnificent, as though nature itself were celebrating the victory with all!

Slowly, as the days wore on into the ending of May, the jubilation began to settle into content calmness. Meli felt great thankfulness, and she repeated thus, over and over again as she looked up into the sky at night; seeking a sign that Ilúvatar was listening. And there it was, glimmering as a shimmering fire in a blackened sea; her star, white and glorious, winking in smiles upon the rhythm of her song.

Celeborn and Galadriel began making plans to journey across the vast lands; they would accompany their Granddaughter, south to Minas Tirith. Aragorn, son of Arathorn had re-claimed the throne of Gondor and had become King Elessar, and would take as his wife Arwen Undomial. They would be called Elfstone and Evenstar through all the lands and there would be a great peace and serenity that would bring forth happiness to all.

The morning the Imladris elves arrived in Lothlorien was a glorious occasion. All greeted Meli with love and hugs, although many did not know of all that had come to pass for this little elf. They sang of the heroes whose stories had already passed throughout the lands. And they marveled at the deeds of all; how each played their part as fate unfolded, enabling Sam and Frodo to accomplish the impossible. Meli spoke not of her own experiences and all respected her privacy, for they knew her way.

However, Elrond knew all that had occurred and was warm as he approached her with his daughter Arwen by his side. He spoke no words of what had transpired; yet his eyes spoke to her with regret and sympathy, revealing his concern.

He knelt down to her and sincerely hugged her as he subtly expressed his relief. "Melanna," was all he could say.

He then stood and presented his daughter Arwen. Meli bowed politely as the beautiful elf received her offered hand.

"It is good to see you again, Melanna." She said as Meli blushed with adoration. Arwen smiled warmly and looked up into the trees. "I hope you have enjoyed the hospitality of this wondrous land. I have spent many spring days here through all my years and I shall never cease to be amazed of its magnificence."

Now more than ever Arwen's presence beamed with exquisite radiance as the light of love revealed her happiness. Yet as Meli stood before her, she sensed the mingling of mixed emotions, as though a great sadness also filled the maiden's heart. Meli nodded and smiled sweetly, unable to speak. Her awe of this maiden had been so strong in Imladris, that she was never able to approach her. And now standing before her in this wondrous land, her awe was twofold and it mingled with confusion over her mixed emotion. An awkward silence followed.

Elrond sensed Meli's discomfort and stated, "We would ask you to join us for tea Melanna, but I'm sure you would like to find Adreal."

The little elf sighed in relief and said, "Adreal? I was not aware she had come! Yes, I would very much like to find her! Thank you my Lord."

Once more she bowed politely and scurried away through the trees in search of her dear friend.

Arwen turned to her father, "There is more to that little one than the eyes behold. What is it Adar? What fate did she meet under that mysterious spell; the one that caused such murmur in Imladris?"

Elrond sighed heavily and hesitated. How could he tell her, how could he invade her sweet happiness with such a story. Yet, she knew some and would soon learn all that had come to pass for Frodo.

"Adar?" said Arwen, waiting for his reply.

Elrond smiled, "Come, we shall have our tea and I will tell you some. And later, we will learn the rest upon our arrival in the White City."

As Meli walked through the trees, her thought still pondered the essence of Arwen. She thought of the night Arwen left Imladris to sail into the west; the despair on her face as her eyes met her father's.

"How wrong she had been to lose hope" thought, Meli.

Then suddenly it dawned on her; how hard the decision must have been to forsake her family; to live and die for the love of a mortal man. Had Meli been given that choice, what would _she_ choose? She could see that Elrond's eyes held sincere happiness for his daughter. It brought thought and emotion as she pondered her own plight.

The pain on her own parent's faces came to memory; the look they held as they made the decision to let her stay behind in a dangerous world on the edge of war. Suddenly she longed to be held in their arms once again. Her second absence from her parents brought an even greater longing than the first. Now that she knew for certain they were alive, her need to be with them was almost like desperation.

Yet her love for Frodo remained without hesitation in the forefront of her heart; as it had since she had first beheld him. Although they had never met, she felt close to him now, as though she had known him all of her life. After all that they had been through, he now was part of her very soul and her love for him had grown immensely.

Yes, if given that choice, she knew the decision that she would make. However, she had no choice; a promise had been made, and now it intensely called her home. She would sail into the west; leave this land forever, forsaking her love for Frodo Baggins, to be with her family. She wondered if she should let go of her dream and her hopes that it would someday come to pass; that it would be Frodo's sweet kiss that would touch her lips upon that white ship as it sailed into the soothing breezes of the sea. How this could ever happen she did not know. It was impossible; for no mortal had _ever_ been granted passage since the bending of the world.

Then more confusion clouded her mind, "Could it be Giliath? Would he be allowed to return from the Halls of Mandos? Will _he_ appear before me on that ship?" she hesitated. "Do I want it to be him?"

Perplexed, she felt she could not think straight. For all of those years that she had mourned for Giliath in Imladris, it never once occurred to her that he might return. Why was this thought coming to her now, when her love for Frodo was so assuredly sealed? She quickly shook it from her mind as she approached the gathering of elves. She smiled in the light of the others to never let her confusion show and she stuffed these feelings far into the back of her heart where even she could not see them.

Meli was cheered quickly when she discovered Glorfindel had also arrived. She found him playfully flirting with Adreal near the fountain. Their reunion was delightful with great hugs, silly dancing and joyous laughter. They spent most of the afternoon together in celebration, feasting with the others under the great pavilion or walking the lawns in chatter. Meli and Adreal sang songs of old recalling memories of long ago happiness, while Glorfindel playfully annoyed them with pokes and antics. Then he became distracted with a maiden of the wood so Meli and Adreal slipped away to walk long through the forest of Lorien.

Adreal spoke of her recent experiences in Imladris as the shadow of war invaded their peaceful land. Proudly she revealed how the elves succeeded in protecting the serenity of the Last Homely House.

Adreal stopped and took Meli's hand saying, "However, that protection would not have held, had it not been for the success of the quest." She sat down upon a fallen log and looked intently at Meli. "I thought of you every moment and worried about how you were doing. Lord Elrond told me Meli, or rather I dragged it out of him with my constant inquiries. Frodo suffered greatly through his ordeal; and so did you."

Meli turned away as the memory of it rose in her throat and with a sigh she said, "I am alright Adreal. You have no need to worry now."

Adreal smiled and said, "Of course you are alright my little friend. And all will be glorious when you arrive in Gondor!"

Meli's eyes grew wide for a moment and she turned back to face her friend. "I can not go Adreal, it is not my fate."

Adreal looked upon her in confusion, "But why, Meli? It is all over now and Frodo can meet you; he will fall in love with you as the spell foresaw! You will be so happy with him, just like Arwen will be with Aragorn!"

Meli's face darkened as memory of her parent's pain came to her. She would never forget the look on her father's face and the despair that he held that night long ago.

"I promised my parents, Adreal. I promised them, that if they let me come here to Lorien to help, I would sail to Aman once I knew Frodo was safe. Now I must await the next ship. To meet him would only make matters worse. It would only bring him more pain." She bowed her head, unwilling to let her friend see her eyes for they were filled with her broken heart.

Adreal cried out, "But you have foreseen it Meli, in your dream…what of the white ship. What of the spell? He will love you! Surely he will join you when you sail. What harm would there be to meet him earlier?"

Meli looked up quickly, "You know of the dream?"

Adreal blushed with embarrassment, "Yes, I am sorry Meli, I am afraid my curiosity got the best of me. I listened as Nilde told Lord Elrond. I am truly sorry! I only did it out of concern and worry."

Meli's memories of her own spying came to mind and she laughed. "I quite forgive you, for I am guilty of far more than that. I am glad you know. Now I have someone of whom I can speak of these things. You see Adreal my dream may be _just_ a dream. You forget that Frodo is mortal. A mortal has never been granted passage to Aman. And even if he were given that grace, perhaps for his part in destroying that thing which brought great evil, I could not tempt him to leave the love of his home and all of his kin, just to be with me. No, if he were ever given that grace, our first meeting would have to be on that ship; _after _he has made the decision _on his own_, to leave Middle Earth forever."

Adreal looked at Meli's sad face and leaned over to hug her, "Oh Meli, all will be well. Frodo will come just as your dream foresaw. I feel it in my heart."

Meli smiled at her. Deep down, she knew that nothing was certain. Even her dream could be altered with the choices of time. Giliath once more came to mind, but she said nothing. Her heart longed for Frodo. The idea that Frodo could be given a choice renewed her hope. But she knew that if he were given that choice and chose to stay in the Shire until his dying day, he would never know of his love for her.

She knew there was nothing she could do, but wait to see. "You must promise me Adreal, that you will say nothing. For it may only bring more pain. It must be left to fate. Please."

Adreal sighed, "I promise Meli. I promise"

Soon the time came and the wedding party left; singing their farewells in song as Meli smiled affectionately, waving until they were far out of sight. Her farewell to her friends though difficult, was consoled with promises of reunion. And as she said goodbye to Galadriel, they hugged warmly for the Lady knew all thoughts that were within Meli's mind.

With understanding she passed to her these thoughts, "No bôr, ant lín tolthatha. Namarie Mellon nîn." **_Have faith, for your gift will come. Farewell my friend._**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 **

**Spring in the Golden Wood**

Within days after the wedding party departed, Meli began feeling stronger. The glorious spring wonders of Lothlorien seized her in spite of her longings for Frodo. And though his blanket still weighed heavily with the scars of trauma, she felt his heart was lighter and it gave her new vigor. She was determined to focus on the positive things in life; Frodo was alive and for that, she was sincerely thankful.

She took to walking long hours soaking in the splendor of the golden woods and the aromas of the blossoms as they burst in all their glory. She stayed near the babbling streams and dipped her toes in the coolness as the days warmed through the season. Then one day she came upon an area where the stream grew to a small brook. It flowed much deeper than before and the waters were crystal, revealing pebbles of many colors paving the shallows on each side. Delight flickered in her heart as the thought of water tickled her. She followed it for a short time, as it twisted and turned round hills and through thickets when suddenly she came upon a most glorious sight. It was a river! Such happiness came over her that she didn't even realize a tear had fallen! She quickly slipped her feet into the water and felt the soft mushy mud ooze between her toes as the current caressed her ankles. Her hands reached high into the air and she sang a beautiful melody in gratitude; and her velvety voice echoed far through the branches of the Mallorn; and all the birds fluttered near, to see from whence it came.

She cared not if her clothes were wet as she waded in; her body savored the water as the ripples seeped upward into her hair and tickled her ears. The waters flowed gently in this area and before long she was far from the shore, taking great strokes, diving deep, exploring the wonders of the life below as her dress billowed in the current. She was at home with the water as though it was an old friend that danced with her in reunion.

Late that day, she returned to Caras Galadhon, worn out from her bliss and her dress was quite rumpled, but she was happy to feel alive again. Every day thereafter she returned to the river, to soak in its good therapy and delight in its song as healing washed over her. But her dream of the ship never returned and it made her wonder what fate would befall her and Frodo.

By early summer Meli made the decision to set out for the Havens of Mithlond. Word had come from Cirdon the Shipwright that the next ship would be ready in a little over two years. In the meantime, although the beauty of Lothlorien and the glory of the river was enough to content the soul; hers could not sit idle. Her longing for the day the ship would set sail was growing in her mind. The anticipation she felt to know her fate grew heavy with each passing day. Never before had so little time in an elf's life been so significant to one's emotions. She thought, perhaps she could be of use to Lord Cirdon, somehow making good use of her time and talents. Such a long way this shy little elf had come, to want to travel vast distance to work for a stranger. However, travel was out of the question without escort, for the lands were still wild and untamed so soon after the war. So she waited with restless anticipation, keeping as busy as she could as a way to cope until the wedding party returned.

Late-July dawned bright and hot. Meli took to the river early that day for a dual purpose. Of course to satisfy her never ending desire to swim and explore, but also to catch some fish; the smoky taste had become her passion. Deep into the vast waters she dove and easily spotted the silver shimmers of the fat Mords and the blue shadowy Ciprs that lived in abundance within this great river; the Celebrant as named by the elves. She had learned much from them, to include sewing and weaving and she marveled at the fabrics and materials they used. She made small sacks so delicately woven that they acted as nets to catch the fish, and when the drawstrings were pulled tightly, they held water for a little while. She would swim ever patiently near one until it became accustomed to her and then quickly she slipped the silver sack over its fat body, and pulled the strings to bind it quickly. The fish were swift making it a great challenge in the beginning for her. In time however, her skills improved to acceptable levels and her contributions to the elves of Lorien though small, were appreciated.

She returned mid-morning, hair dripping and out of breath; she was dragging a bundle of about six or seven little sacks behind her. It was her biggest catch so far and she had insisted on preparing them herself. Her heart beamed with pride as she turned them on little spits over the fire, and then she lovingly shared every morsel with as many elves as she could, saving only a few bites for herself.

Later that morning to her delight, Glorfindel arrived. He spotted her first, sitting on the lawn with some of the younger elves. What a sight she was chattering away as they crafted with leafy vines and the Elanor blossoms. Little floral headpieces dotted the lawn and long braids of floral and stem hung in unison with a child's brown plaits. One child was softly singing and giggles came from another. Meli must have been telling a story of sorts, for she articulated with her hands in great swoops as her chattering continued. Her dress was slightly muddied from her recent swim and her braid was still wet with tiny little curls popping out here and there.

"And what have we here!" He teased, "You've been swimming again I see!" He roared with laughter.

Meli jumped up and scooped a small child into her arms. "Glorfindel, my friend, what took you so long?" She called giggling as she merrily began dancing around with the child who was near as big as she.

Glorfindel caught them with a roll upon the softness of the grass and began tickling them. All the other children piled on top of them in hoots and squeals. They laughed and cut up until their bellies ached and ran about the lawn in fake fear of the little ones. Then they fell helpless upon the grass, pretending exhaustion, as the children continued to run around with endless vigor.

Once calm eased her breathing Meli turned to Glorfindel and asked, "Where are the others? Did you come back alone?"

He took a deep breath in final composure and solemnly explained, "Yes, I came alone, for it was perceived by the Lady Galadriel that I was needed here. The others will come later."

Meli looked at him puzzled, for his voice had grown somber. "Why do they delay? Tell me Glorfindel, what has happened?"

With a sigh he continued, "The victory of war was not without great cost, for the fair people of Rohan lost their King at the hand of Sauron's vilest servant. They journey now to Edoras, bearing his body in return to be buried in the barrows of the Kings before him."

Meli's thought laid heavily on the words, 'vilest servant' and she shuddered at the thought of coming face to face with _him_. And as they sat in a moment of silence, she marveled at the bravery that that mighty King must have held. Then Glorfindel took Meli's hand and told her she must come, for he had something he wanted to show her.

They walked back to the gate of the city, then down a broad passage between tall thick bushes that were heavily laden with new red berries. Birds busily clucked as they feasted on them, completely oblivious to the elves as they passed. Meli knew this passage led to the stables for she had gone down there a few times to see if any horses had stayed behind. But the stable hand shooed her away, stating "There is nothing now for you to see, my Lady."

She felt excitement as she anticipated seeing Asfaloth again. They passed through an opening at the end and when they came into sight of the stables, Meli gasped in surprise. The young stable hand was brushing the sweat from Asfaloth's coat. He stopped and quickly stepped aside with a huge grin on his face. Standing next to Asfaloth, was a young mare, brandy brown with black ears and tail. Her eyes were bright as Eärendil's star and her coat glistened in softness, as she stood proud and elegant.

Glorfindel kneeled down and softly said, "She is yours, Meli. She is daughter of Asfaloth, though she has no name as of yet."

Meli's face lit up with joy as she cried, "Oh Glorfindel! How? I don't understand! I…"

She slowly walked over and touched the young horse's nose as she began cooing softly. The mare dipped her head with a nod revealing the scattered black hairs on her nose. It looked as though she had dipped her nose into a bowl of black ash, and then shook some of it off leaving a lovely, but mischievous appearance to her face.

Meli caressed her nose once more and exclaimed, "Oh Glorfindel, she's beautiful!"

She then turned to Asfaloth and began commending him on siring such beauty. The great horse whinnied grouchily, and then to her surprise nuzzled her, although a little too enthusiastically almost knocking her over. Glorfindel caught her and began to scold his horse through his laughter.

"I am alright!" laughed Meli as she glared at Asfaloth playfully. He snorted then stepped away as though he had had enough of this business.

Glorfindel then placed his hand on the young mare's strong back and stroked her with pride. "I was waiting to tell you about her. You know she has been _here_, all along."

Meli raised her brows in surprise and looked over at the stable hand; he nodded and shrugged in apologetic confirmation.

Glorfindel smiled and continued, "I planned to give her to you for your return to Imladris. However, with this new impending journey I have just heard about, you will need her longer. She shall be of good company for you on your long passage o'er the sea."

Meli once again raised her brows in surprise. "Glorfindel, I cannot ride!"

The great elf laughed gently, "I will teach you to ride her and you need not be afraid of her size; for she is light footed and steady, though she is swift."

Meli smiled and said, "Then I shall call her Nessa. That will be most fitting of such beauty and gracefulness."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**A Haven Awaits**

The journey to the havens began two days later upon a warm breezy day. Meli bid her farewells to the elegant Lothlorien elves with bright smiles and grateful bows for all of the support they had given her in her times of need. And in return, they gifted her with soothing melodies to carry her from the enchantment of the forest and back into the vast open world of Middle Earth.

Nessa was a very gentle horse and unlike her father, took to Meli affectionately, even nudging her for attention from time to time. They rode slowly for the first two days as Glorfindel instructed Meli to ride. The little elf rode with clumsy fear and unsteadiness at first, mostly intimidated by Nessa's great size, but before long the two bonded and the feel of each other's body fell into pace with one another. The timing was just about right when Meli began to feel comfortable with a swift gallop, for Glorfindel had begun to feel uneasy with the safety of the land as they neared the entrance to the Redhorn Pass. Though Sauron's grip on the Orc's mind had diminished, many foul creatures yet still survived. They lived in fear and desperation, unsure of what to do with themselves; a very bad mixture for creatures who had been bred to hate.

"The King has sent out many soldiers to bring the land into check. They hope to drive them south, away from those they tormented for so long." Glorfindel said to comfort Meli, but then he warned, "However, that will take time. We must be careful in the shadow of the mountains, for this is where they will seek cover."

So they rode swiftly, only stopping at the fall of dusk to hunker down and hide as the Orcs came out to hunt. Without the distractions of haste and Frodo's quest as they had on their previous journey, Glorfindel was able to take greater care to scour the land and ensure their privacy and safety. In addition, the benefit of their natural stealth kept them safe. Despite all their precautions however, the memory of that horrible attack they had experienced on their previous journey occasionally seeped into Meli's dreams to haunt her. But she kept this to herself, tucked far behind her smiles and cheerful antics with her escort.

Their evenings were memorable, as the two friends once again enjoyed each other's company. In all they had been through, though most of it not together, they began at this time to feel a bond that they had felt with no other. They were serene, softly singing their songs, quiet, yet silly, they whispered tales of old; sometimes they even danced and played out hilarious moments when the safety of it was assured.

He told her all about the wedding, how beautiful Arwen was, how noble Aragorn looked and he commented that Frodo, Legolas and Gimli humbly stood near Aragorn in witness.

"What did Frodo wear?" asked Meli enthusiastically.

Glordindel thought for a moment, then he remembered, "I believe it was a cloak and waistcoat of burgundy velvet, with brown breeches and a vest that held intricate embroidery. They almost looked antique, though in excellent condition. I do not know where he got them, but he looked very regal."

Meli beamed as she closed her eyes and visualized his words. Her mind wandered for a moment with thoughts of his brown locks gently lying upon the velvet collar and his blue eyes gleaming in contrast to the burgundy. Then Glordindel continued speaking, drawing her out of her day dream.

He reported in more detail of the death of the Rohan King and what it had meant to all the people. He told her the tale of Eowyn, the lovely; how her valor in battle was achieved with the slaying of the Witch King. How deeply this tale touched Meli's heart, she would not reveal; for the spell continued to touch her. Frodo's blanket now billowed softly with longing, that she guessed was for Bilbo and the Shire; sadness that she assumed was for those who had perished; and other deep unspoken pains that only Meli could identify. These things she chose to keep far within her self, so as for them not to be any more of a burden than possible.

In all other things however, they were sincere; they spoke their truest feelings. They shared counsel for each other's life ambitions; they advised and gave opinions. Of course all of Meli's aspirations included dreams of Frodo and she revealed her desire for a great home filled with family and the love of many friends nearby.

Sadly she bowed her head to hide her eyes as she said, "Alas, it may never be, for my dream has not come in a long, long time." She then raised her head and cheerfully said, "Yet I do not give up hope!"

They sat in silence for a moment or two and Glorfindel wondered what the Valar would decide. He thought surely Frodo should be rewarded for his accomplishment; though it was true, many had played a part for the end to be achieved. Deep down, he could not fathom that a mortal would be given passage o'er the sea; it had never been done. Perhaps her dream was not foresight; perhaps it was just a vision from the heart. He was not sure what to say to Meli. Should he encourage her to hope, only to be let down? Or should he honestly express his doubts, to prepare her? He did not get the chance to speak either way when his thought was interrupted.

"What about you?" Meli asked, hoping he would be a part of the 'friends nearby' of her hopes.

It didn't take him long to answer, his conviction was still strong. "I have decided to stay in Middle Earth for a time, to offer my assistance to Celeborn in bringing order to his realm."

Meli marveled at his drive and selfless ambition. She believed in the story of the battle he had faced with the Balrog in the downfall of Gondolin where he had fallen to his death. When she mustered the courage to ask him about it, he confirmed that truly he _did_ have memory of that harrowing battle.

"It is true, and yes I do remember." He then, quickly fell quiet.

She looked at him in compassion. "I am sorry I brought that memory back to you, I..."

He interrupted her, "No, it is alright little one. I know I have made it seem as though I do not remember. I truly do not _like _to remember that experience, nor of my passing through the Halls of Mandos." His face softened, "I will speak of it. I cannot go on, keeping it buried within myself."

Meli had already read about the lands that held the great city of Gondolin in hiding and its history the longest of all cities of that time. She remembered the valor of King Turgon and his dedication to his kin as he marched his armies out of hiding to aid in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears; then jubilantly they stole their way back into the secret city without being seen. They lived in secrecy for a time after and life had been wondrous.

Glorfindel proceeded, detailing the entire experience in full; he left nothing out. He began detailing his memory of the festival that the elves were celebrating in song when the ambush by the orcs took them by surprise.

"There were many great battles and we held them for a time…but they had come upon us with dragons, orcs and wolves; fierce and determined, they outnumbered us greatly. It was the premonition of our Lady Idril, daughter of Turgon that saved so many. She had prepared a secret passage that held hope of escape. But the evil forces came upon us in the passes of Cirith Thoronath. They had a Balrog with them," he said in disgust.

He then recounted full detail of the massive exertion he put forth and the harm he caused in complete satisfaction as the elves slipped away.

"I heaved one last blow upon his enormous thigh; I knew he would fall at that point…" Glorfindel hesitated then spoke softly of his surprise in meeting his own death, "…but his hand jerked back in reflex as he lost his balance. Before I knew it I felt the blow of it as it caught me and I was swept over the edge into a fall that lasted…it seemed ages. So many thoughts reeled through my mind as I fell. The love of my family, the safety of the elves, the despair of Gondolin, love I had never felt; the love of children, the love of a maiden." He sighed. "Then, there was pain; its intensity far beyond words I could ever find to speak."

Meli softly gasped.

Glorfindel took her hand and gently squeezed as he continued, "It passed quickly and I found myself traveling through the serene halls of grey. The music was so soothing and peaceful that sleep came to me in sighs that lasted for what seemed a vast age. It was a healing sleep that held me on the edge of awareness. Yet as I healed and became stronger, deep inside my resolve simmered until it overcame the serenity. I became more aware, and my sleep became restless as dreams whirled through my head. I replayed the battle over and over and I became frustrated; an unsettling agony arose from within me for I desired to do more against all evil. I felt trapped and I screamed through the halls for absolution."

"Absolution?" cried Meli as she squeezed the massive hand in protest.

"Yes," he explained with solemn voice, "you see, great guilt resided in me. I felt I had failed my people, the people of Gondolin."

"No!" cried Meli. "You were…you _are_ brave and honorable!"

The mighty elf blushed as he continued. "Well, Nienna heard my pleas." He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, "I can still hear her song, majestic and white as it soothed my woes. It carries me even now to places deep and tranquil, yet unbinding in my need to bring peace upon this earth. My need is to serve."

With these words Meli knew that he was undeniably devoted. And in her mind she now understood he could have come down that path no other way. After all he had been through, and all he had done, his desire was to continue serving this land with his mighty presence.

"And serve it well you shall my friend." she said, her eyes glistening in pride. "But do not be humble to welcome your rewards in the end when you enter Aman. For your rewards will be greatly deserved."

To that, Glorfindel again blushed, and unable to contain the fluster, he began to busy himself with chores then quickly changed the subject.

They rode on through the high crisp air with hopes that the Redhorn would be kind and the summer weather to their advantage. The horses did well, considering the higher ascension, though their breathing increased with great snorts and grunts as the hills steepened. And the weather held on to the sun to give them just enough warmth to awaken their hearts as though a new spring had begun all over again. To their relief Redhorn _was_ kind and they made it through with no problems.

Meli was glad to leave the grasps of the mountain that loomed over Moria. She had felt an uneasy dread with its presence looking down upon her; it brought her memory of the trauma that dwelt in the shadows of her mind. She closed her eyes as if that would block out the visions of the suffering her parents and people had experienced there. And she wondered, but did not want to know, the detail of how the Balrog brought such intense fear to Frodo under that mountain, and the downfall of Gandalf. The emotions this stirred in her made her feel nauseous and she rode hard, determined to put it behind her.

Three more days passed and on the end of the third they neared Hollin Ridge. They decided to ride in the dusk a bit further in search of cover for the wind had begun to blow its last cold breath as they entered the tail end of a thunderstorm. The ground was saturated and they felt thankful they had just missed the deluge. They found a hollow etched into the side of a hill with thick trees lining its entrance. Its purpose would be well suited to block out the wind. Glorfindel carefully traced the area to ensure it would not serve as a trap and they made camp. No fire could be lit so they hunkered down in blankets and feasted on the fruits and dried meats Meli had packed. They ate in silence for a while, thinking about the long ride they still had before them when Glorfindel braved to ask the question that had lingered in his mind.

"What will you do, Meli, if Frodo does not come when the ship is ready?"

It startled Meli. She thought that she had made this clear, that she would sail into the loving arms of her parents; yet she would never give up hope although the impossibilities of it were profound. She hesitated, unsure how to answer.

"You truly have refused to think about it, haven't you?" He said more as a fact than a question.

Redness rose on her cheek and it revealed her fear as she said, "Alright, I'd just as soon lie down and slip away! What would I do? I can not go running off to the Shire, can I?"

She looked at him angrily as a long moment of silence passed. Then her face softened as she came to understand his motives. "I have made a promise to another that I love with all my being; my father. And I shall keep it."

Her voice broke as she said the last words.

Glorfindel scooted over to put his arm around her. "I know little one. You need to face that possibility now. Holding on to your hope is a good thing, but you must also prepare yourself for the worse."

Those words were barely out of his mouth when suddenly they heard a sound. Off in the distance a rock skipped and then, the sound of the familiar horrid voices. Glorfindel jumped up quickly and directed Meli to stand between the horses and be ready to flee if need arose. Stroking the beasts to keep them calm, her heart pounded as memories of the voices came to her again. With arrow already in place, Glorfindel stepped behind a tree and waited. A long while passed. It was dark and the light of the stars slipped in and out of the clouds obscuring their vision. Then suddenly there they were; under barely enough light to reveal them. When they entered the hollow the elf was so quick to act, they were dead before they even realized what was happening. Three Orcs lay in a heap as Meli stepped out from hiding upon Glorfindel's call. But to their surprise a fourth flew out from behind a tree, sword in hand swinging at Glorfindel! The elf ducked but lost his footing as the Orc swung once more, just barely missing his head as he fell back. Having the advantage, the Orc began to strike once again! Meli did not blink as instinct drove her; she charged into the back of the Orc, with all her might, knocking him down almost on top of Glordindel. The great elf was fast and rolled out of the way; he grabbed his sword swiftly and ended it all with a swift stab and growl of exertion!

Meli could not stop shaking. "Trembling like a coward," she thought as she scolded herself for not being able to calm down. This scolding left a knife of shame deeply embedded within her and she could not shake it. The night was slow to pass. Time had seemed to stop. Glorfindel sat at watch, his ears strained for the slightest noise. He had insisted that Meli try to sleep, but she could not, as she reproached herself for her clumsy actions. She shuttered at the thought of what could have happened; her fear refused to leave her. Her body ached from trying with all her might to lie still so she would not reveal her sleeplessness to Glorfindel.

He was weary too, although not physically. Strong as he was, sleep was not so much a necessity. His thoughts had been on Meli and he felt bad for bringing her pain with his words before the attack. He knew she could not sleep and instinct told him she had been crying for some time. It angered him that fate had been so harsh on this little elven maiden.

Meli inhaled deeply as she looked up at her star and struggled to think of thoughts to calm herself. Thoughts to replace the horrid look on the Orcs face that kept coming to mind. 'The ship…yes, splendid and white," she thought. Visions of her dream began swimming through her thoughts. It had been so long since the dream had come to her, but the memory was so vivid, filled with yearning. She imagined it was Frodo's smiling face, and his kiss. But the conversation with Glorfindel brought her back to reality and she remembered that fate could be altered. Perhaps grace would not be gifted to him. And if it was, perhaps Frodo's desire would be to stay in the Shire; a mortal accepting the greater gift. A thick sadness filled her heart. Oh, how the night was slow to pass.

The remainder of the journey north was peaceful. The days passed through the warmth of August as the two elves rode in stealthy leisure stopping often to watch and listen. Occasionally a small flock of black Crebain would flutter about seemingly lost and woeful; the land itself held an eerie silence as though it were contemplating a strange and unusual peace. Yet among the sharp thickets that grew in this harsh land, a new sprout of rich green accompanied by ruby red could be seen working its way through the briars as a new awakening of life and joy. The land too seemed to celebrate from deep within; rejoicing in this new era.

As they neared the Ford of Bruinen, realization had now come upon Meli that Frodo was traveling again. Being of elven kind, she did not succumb to travel weariness like mortals, but gradually she began to feel the familiar fatigue that she had felt when he first set out on the quest. It was very mild however, and her legs did not ache, so she concluded that it was a pleasant journey, only now beginning; and he must be riding a pony or horse.

Yet whispering in the folds of his blanket of feelings she began to feel a slight weight, making it heavier than it had been in the time since the ending of the war. For her there was no doubt, it was a small simmering melancholy that mirrored her own feelings exactly. It was a shameful yearning that she forbade herself to acknowledge, then a bit of guilt that she refused to let surface in the forefront of her mind. It was bitter as her conscious denied it, yet now that Frodo was feeling it strong enough for her to notice, it made her feel close to him again.

"Bitter-sweet" she said to herself with sadness, and she sighed with an inner reminder that his life was no longer laced with evil and she should be thankful for his safety.

It was early afternoon when they entered the familiar dale of Imladris and a sense of coming home filled Meli with sentiment. The falls of Imladris sang gloriously, and their grace was long. With froth and swirl they splashed down in shattered white, upon the massive rocks; soothing the traveler's weariness before they had even dismounted. They spent a few days refreshing themselves in the warm blossoms of tranquil gardens, swimming deep in the lush pools and Meli could not resist the library; her blanket and candle still sat in her corner where she had left them. The elves rejoiced at the sight of Meli and the maidens giggled in the presence of Glorfindel. They celebrated their safety in song and prepared great feasts of bountiful fruits, meats and squashes.

The most delightful time of all for Meli was spent enjoying Bilbo's company; although his memory seemed to be fading and sadly he did not remember her at first. However, it did not take long, before he came to love her friendship again as though nothing was forgotten. She was amused that he had also forgotten that long ago, she had learned to speak the common language. He decided he would teach it to her and as she read to him, he would instruct her and compliment her for learning quickly. He was such a dear old chap and she relished each moment she spent with him.

Their final parting was a sad one for her and she mourned that she would never see him again. She held him tight and with a heavy sigh, she kissed him goodbye, "I shall miss you my friend."

With a twinkle in his eye he brushed her dimple with his knuckle and said, "My Frodo would have just loved you my dear."

Now, leaving Imladris was also highly emotional for Meli for she had come to love it as she had her beloved Carasdolen; both of which she knew she would never see again. The realization that she was leaving _all_ of Middle Earth then came flooding into her mind; and her love for this land was solid in her sentiment. She was determined to absorb every inch that she saw for the remaining journey, to plant it forever to memory, to hold it dearly until the end of her days.

As they traveled upon the East West Road the first few days, Meli marveled at the beauty of these western lands so new to her. She inhaled the scents of each tree, hill and dale as they rode forth. And she sighed with each sunset as the orange-red sky closed its sleepy eyes before her to the west.

Yet as the days wore on, she began to feel anxiety. She rode hard, as if to close her eyes and not see that which would make her love grow, for she knew saying goodbye would be all the more painful in her heart. However, no love was felt as they drew within sight of a small rocky hill. A deep embedded fear arose in Meli's throat as a premonition of evil emanated from its crevices. It held memory that she did not know, yet it was profound in bringing memory of the evil that had riddled her.

"What is that place?" she desperately asked Glordindel as she reigned Nessa to a slow trot.

He halted Asfaloth and turned towards her with a sigh, for he had hoped that they would pass it by unnoticed. "That is Weathertop, Meli," he said as he braced himself for her reaction.

She sat still, looking up at it as Nessa neared Asfaloth. No reaction was on her face, but deep within her shoulder and leading to her heart, she felt a throbbing pain as though it were taunting her.

"Oh, it is Weathertop." she said as her resolve battled within her to overpower the pain and resist the urge to cower. She then turned Nessa back towards the path and with fixed jaw, she rode on.

Days later, they passed by Bree as night fell upon them and not a soul, knew of their presence. Onward they trotted under the stars and the moon feeling no need to stop and rest; for the land was so serene and peaceful that it lent enough rest for all, including the horses. When the sun arose they felt refreshed, so they ran swiftly with the smells of a cool summer morning providing enough nourishment to keep them going.

It was dusk, two days from Bree when they reached the outskirts of the Shire. The nearer she had come, the more melancholy Meli began to feel. Glorfindel sensed it as her chattering slowly ceased, so he led them into the edges of the Old Forest to rest for the night. He had camped in these woods many a time and had always held a revered awe for the age and wisdom that resided within the trees. Meli sensed it immediately and though a forewarning was present, she felt a sense of contented ease; as though an understanding of respect was held between them. They supped silently under the trees on dry wafers and smoked meats and she slept well that night; dismissing her melancholy as she held on to her hope in spite of the dismal whispers of reality.

The next day they passed through the lands furtively so as not to be seen, nor to disrupt the lifestyle among the little Hobbits. Meli could not resist a climb upon the top of a hill east of the White Downs just to look. She saw far and wide with her elf eyes and the beauty of the land filled her soul with serenity.

Then memory came to her of the mirror and she realized this was the land she had seen in that dream so long ago. She sighed deeply in relieved thought, "Sauron is gone and he can do no more harm. That horrible sight will not come to pass! Frodo truly _did_ save the Shire!"

She smiled as she breathed the green scents, as the grasses and trees carried her heart across the land and she imagined what it was like to grow up there.

Her smile fell, "How could he ever want to leave this," she said turning to seek comfort in Glorfindel's eyes.

Though he tried his best to cheer her, even greater he felt the need to gently remind her to prepare herself that Frodo may not ever be able to, or even want to leave.

She looked out over the land once more, the beauty of it shimmering like an emerald gem, a token of peace unending and with great sadness she once again wondered if she would ever see him again.

"No!" she cried only in thought as her resolve clenched down, "He willcome".

It was well into golden September when they reached the Havens as the afternoon sun glimmered on the gentle waves. A great gulf carved in high stone cradled the little town of Mithlond on grey beaches. It then ran along a narrow passage of grey rock until it burst into the wide open ocean, its waters so vast in Meli's little eyes that she gasped at first sight. The folk greeted them warmly, though they seemed a gruff kind of people; weather-worn and obviously hard working; yet regal, for Meli sensed that they held a wisdom deep as can be held only by the highest of the elves. She bowed in respect before Lord Cirdan as Glorfindel introduced her. Vast years could be felt in his presence, years of toil and war, years of beauty and love, years of history never-ending. He was a commanding person physically, but his eyes kindled in gentleness as he smiled at Meli.

"So you've come to help build the ship of the Ringbearers; the most revered of all ships to be built. Are you sure you are up to it? For the task will be immense."

Meli's heart began to pound so hard, she hardly heard his question. "Ship of the Ringbearers?" she answered with a question of her own.

"Yes," answered Cirdon in return, "For the tides of time are come to an ending, and the powers of the Rings shall fade away. And the Ringbearers will soothe their woes upon the white shores in the West, a land ever healing." He then looked at Meli suspiciously and repeated his question, "Are you sure you are up to it?"

Meli's heart fluttered in mingling joy as she dared ask another question that dominated her thought, though she answered his question swiftly, "Yes my Lord, I will give you my all in this great task! But please tell me my Lord, will _all_ of the Ringbearers be sailing?"

His eyes softened in understanding. Here was a little elf with her heart in her hand, offering it to him to hold or to crush with the very words that would leave his lips. He answered her carefully, "We shall hold hope that whatever fate befalls them they will live their remaining days in peace."

Meli sighed and bowed her head in respect, "Yes, my Lord."

Two days passed by in the relaxing calm of the sea when once again she had to say farewell to Glorfindel. It was not like before. Her fear and shyness was almost cured after all she had been through and the thought of living among these elves for a while did not bother her. This time it was a different kind of pain. It was the pain of saying goodbye to a brother. She knew she would see him again, though not for a while and she would miss him terribly.

"There is much I can still do here in Middle Earth." said Glorfindel. "My time will come, little one, and I will sail for Aman, and see you once again."

She smiled and sighed as they parted with hugs.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 **

**The White Ship**

The Havens were peaceful and majestic in sight and they soothed Meli's feelings with contentment in the beginning. She was given a small room, though big to her eyes and body. It was above the Inn where the workers gathered after work for drink and song. Although she was almost cured of her crippling shyness, she remained a loner, content to work and relax in solitude. At night while the merriment proceeded below, she would sit in meditation; gazing out of her window at the vast cliff walls that channeled into the wide open skies of the ocean. Then, late at night, she would climb into her oversized bed and drift off to sleep to the melodic sound of the waters lapping against the docks in unison with the soothing songs of the oldest elves.

Cirdon was a proper elf, very direct and precise; not one to get very close to. His no nonsense way was just what Meli needed to keep busy and very busy, indeed, he kept her. Her skills were a good thing for him and he put her to good use, crafting, sanding, and painting on the white ship. He even gave her free reign to design some of the ship's rooms, yet he always kept her in check with his expertise, for her ideas were often imperfect. He never hesitated to speak his mind or scold for errors. But he was never harsh and kept up respect with all of his workers, including Meli who, through her inexperience, seemed to receive the most of it.

"This ship will be the most honored, Meli," he would often remind her, knowing she loved the words. "For this ship will bring forth the Ringbearers." She basked in those words as hope simmered within her; yet her doubt never left her and she pondered constantly about her fate. She would think about Frodo and the burdens that all the Ringbearers had carried. These thoughts drove her to pour all her love and effort into everything she did on that ship, no matter how trivial. For this was the ship of her dream.

Deep within her soul she knew that the advice that Glorfindel had given her was in wisdom. Still, she refused to prepare herself for the possibility that Frodo would not come. Her hope was firm though there were times when she thought the anticipation would claim her and drive her beyond the brink of madness. For a while, in the beginning, the serenity of the Havens would pull her back to peacefulness enabling her to cope. But the simmering melancholy continued to grow slowly and it became more profound; it began to invade her emotions as well as those she felt from Frodo. The yearning she felt became constant, then she would scold herself for it. But the worst of all was the memory of the moment when the Ring took her. It dwelled in her mind like a burr on the heel, nagging her into thoughts of shame and guilt for not being stronger. That evil thing had left scars severely unwavering within her and they were now forcefully emerging. And the realization was now becoming apparent to her, that there was no going back; she would never be her old self again; and neither would Frodo.

An early October day dawned with grey rain clouds thickly lining the cliff walls and the sea was completely veiled in billowing moisture. For most of the day, Meli spent her time sanding the shelves in the galley. Her arm ached for the fervor she poured into it, but she cared not, as her mind wandered in thoughts of Frodo. His travel weariness had become non-existent in the past week or two and she assumed he had stopped to rest somewhere. However, today it seemed to return with such subtlety that she wasn't really sure of what was going on for him. One thing she was sure of, his mood was uneasy and a slow ache had begun to throb in her shoulder. Then it dawned on her with an awakening revelation; it was around this time last year that she and Frodo had first suffered that fateful stab wound inflicted by the evil Witch King.

She worked the day away with these thoughts whirling through her mind and supped quietly in her room as her mood sought solitude. She grew pale and weak as the night wore on, and it was compounded by her own sadness that Frodo was suffering so. Cirdon did not complain when she stayed in her room the next morning and late that evening when it had passed he acted as though nothing had happened.

Back at work the days passed quickly as she poured renewed determination into her work. And with each day, Frodo's blanket slowly grew heavy again with unease. It was more than just simple weariness of travel, Meli was sure. Then, one day, a moment came that urged her reflexes to cower and hide; a feeling very similar to her own as she passed Weathertop. She pushed herself refusing to slow down, cautious to not let it show; she faked song on her lips and tried to be her old cheerful self. But the sadness within her that her Frodo was suffering continued to remain the forefront of her thought. Cirdon watched her, ever mindful of her history for which he somehow knew and he often had to go behind her to touch up a flaw here and there; yet he never said a word to her about it.

November arrived and as twilight settled upon the lapping waves, Meli, sought solitude upon a large rock that overlooked the water near the edge of town. She had her cloak wrapped tightly around her as she sat for a long while breathing the salt air and reflecting. Slowly this day Frodo's emotions had become even heavier and in the last hours a strange disquiet was welling in her. She gazed at her star as it slowly appeared and began singing her mind softly. It seemed that it shone a little brighter over the sea, with a smooth white glow that streaked out in reaches to the tiny little stars around it. Clear and black, the sky illuminated many more stars this night than normal and with the reflection on the water they danced lightly on the waves. The ocean seemed so wide that she wondered how long it would take to reach Aman.

She looked over at the looming white ship, still quite incomplete as it gently rocked in lapping whispers. It would take so long it seemed, to build it. She closed her eyes and imagined flying o'er the sea just as Elwing had in search of her Eärendil; or perhaps a smaller boat would do, one that could carry two. She laughed softly at the thought of her and Frodo rowing o'er the vast ocean. "My love and I," she whispered into the night. Finally she relented to sleepiness and ambled on to her room.

The next morning she woke physically refreshed but again the blanket billowed through emotions that she did not understand. It began with a mild anger, and then simmered with gentle wonder and calm slowly slipped far away behind a wall of frustration. As the day wore on her tasking on the ship began to be threatened as the taste of shock, distress and disgust bewildered her. She searched her mind fretfully for a possible cause to these feelings Frodo was suffering. "He surely must be in the Shire by now," she thought. Too strong these feelings were to be just simple day to day experiences in mortal life; no, something was up and it was quite alarming.

This feeling lasted into the next day yet still she said nothing to no one. Hidden inside the vast ship, she busied herself carving ornate designs into a rail on the stairwell leading to the cabins below. She was glad to be where she was, where no one could see her and few passed by, for the blanket billowed to its peak in late afternoon. Urgency to contain something or someone from vile and violence was foremost on Frodo's mind! She could tell he was running, for she was out of breath; and he was shouting, for her throat became hoarse and sore. Her hands grasped the rail as she sat on a step and struggled to contain herself. This lasted for such a long while that she feared she would faint from the rapid breathing. Then finally she breathed a sigh of relief when calm slowly settled within her. The sadness however remained, yet as the dinner bell chimed, she felt somewhat capable to face the others.

She helped to serve a thick bean soup and carried bread to all the tables. The deep melancholy lingered, then suddenly a memory came to her so heart-wrenching that she paused, mid-step almost dropping the basket of bread that she carried. It was that nightmare; where she had gazed into the mirror and saw the devastation of the Shire bleeding brown in its rape and destruction.

She carried on, serving with quivering hand, the sadness heavy, the revelation cruel. And then as she ate her dinner, pity flowed over her so poignant it pulled on her shoulders. Her appetite was gone and she sat for a moment wondering what to do. Furtively she stood to clear her dishes as the conversation and chatter hummed around her, hoping no one would notice that she was ending her meal early. The last thing she wanted was to have to explain her odd behavior.

Then suddenly without warning she felt a jab and the sharp piercing of chain mail into her side! She jerked and dropped her bowl with a clatter on the floor and all her soup poured out in a splash, half on her chair, down the legs and all over the floor. Silence fell among the few immediately around her. The gruff looking fellow who had been sitting next to her looked down as a couple of beans slid slowly down the leg of the chair and finally settled into the pool of thick broth.

"Ho now! What is up, little lass?" He said with a chuckle.

Meli blushed crimson as she quickly scooped the soup with her hands back into the bowl; sighing with silent relief that the bowl was wooden and she had plenty of bread to soak it all up. She laughed with fake merriment and said, "Oh clumsy me! I guess I won't be finishing my meal with the view of the sunset after all!"

The fellow turned as did a few others and looked out of the large window at the front of the hall and noted that the sun was settling into orange, blue over the ocean as it had done at the end of everyday. It was a lame excuse, for it had grown too cold to sit outside to eat, but it worked; for they accepted this and continued on with their conversation and meals.

Meli quickly stole away to her room, shaking and worrying about Frodo and his safety. Pity still flowed through her. She clicked the heavy door behind her and quickly pulled open her dress to inspect her skin where the pain had occurred. A red mark arose and once again she saw the familiar outline of chain mail imprinted on her skin!

Her mind raced, "My Frodo is in danger! What is he going through? The beautiful Shire, what has happened to it?" Visions of orcs taunted her mind!

Her throat felt dry and she choked as she swiftly poured a glass of water. She drank it quickly trying to hold back her tears. Her distress for Frodo and his sadness combined, weighed so heavy that she had to lie down. Unable to move for many hours, she worried yet refused to cry and fought with all her will not to feel. She became weary beyond the edges of her mind as she laid there and prayed. She focused all of her support and her love to be felt by Frodo, to give him strength; though she knew she had not that power. Thankfully, deep into the night, calm finally covered her and though the sadness lingered she was able to sleep a bit, albeit uneasily.

To Meli's relief, Frodo's intense sadness eased with time, though his depression lingered and mingled with her own. And she was to experience his episodes several more times over the course of the next year, as memory of wound from blade, sting and tooth invaded her body. Still she carried on as best as she could, working on the ship in pain when she could get away with it and staying in bed when she could not. And as always Cirdon said nothing as though a quiet understanding had come to him and her privacy was respected.

The year passed very slowly but the work kept her going, until finally the ship was ready. It was mid-September and the cooling air was beginning to release the last days of summer. Meli had taken to riding Nessa in the early hours of the morning, then swimming in the harbor waters before beginning her work, rumpled and unkempt. The salt water was new and strange to her at first, but she grew to love it even more than the river; for these depths beheld great wonders to see. The water was a beautiful deep blue and in exploring it, she marveled at the strange new life that lived there. But even more, she felt a greater sense of presence in these waters. It was a comforting presence as though she swam in unison with song and she felt it flow over her body like a warm glove each time she dove in.

That morning upon arriving on the ship to work, Cirdon smiled at her wet hair and exclaimed, "Ah, you've been visiting with the great Ulmo again, have you?" She had read about Ulmo in the library at Imladris. He was of the Valar, among the eight of the highest and his love for the elves was great. He was Lord of all waters and then it dawned on her, the presence she had felt and the song on her lips; was gifted to her by him and it warmed her heart.

She smiled sweetly with thoughts of the water and nodded to Cirdon as she said, "Yes my Lord, he is my dearest friend."

Now this was a morning for great gifts. She was working on deck pitching hay into the horse stalls, when a wondrous sight caught her eye. Riding up on a great white steed, was Gandalf! She dropped the fork with a clang as he dismounted and kneeled. She ran into his arms, and they both fell into laughter.

"Meli, Meli," was all Gandalf could say.

But for her, no words could come for her laughter was unwilling to cease for many a moment. Then finally it turned to tears as she exclaimed, "Oh Gandalf, I thought I lost you forever…forever!"

He hugged her once more and then she exclaimed, "Gandalf…your hair, your beard! You are so white! " But all he could do was laugh. Then as she dried her eyes, she began talking, telling him everything as fast as she could get it out.

"I know…I know Meli," he interrupted her. "Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel have told me everything. Even Bilbo told me some although it was difficult convincing him he should say nothing to Frodo until he has met you for himself."

Meli's eyes grew wide. Her breath slipped away as she looked at him, waiting. Gandalf said softly with gladness and relief in his voice. "Yes, Meli. He is coming."

She gasped and stood rigid on the dock, at first in unbelief. Then such relief came over her that she staggered. Gandalf gently took her elbow and led her over to a bench as she began to laugh softly.

He smiled as his eyes held hers, "Yes Meli, it makes perfect sense; you and Frodo. Why it never dawned on me before, I do not know." He laughed in the sweet gentle laugh that he had always done when he visited the Colters. It brought warm memory to Meli and sweet happiness as he proclaimed once again, "He really is coming." But then his face changed to seriousness as he said, "But we have much to talk over before he arrives." She looked at him puzzled.

Cirdon walked up and greeted Gandalf warmly. Their long friendship became apparent, as they carried on conversation that wove around histories and events which had occurred since their last meeting.

Cirdon looked over at Meli and apologized, "I am sorry Melanna. We must be boring you terribly with our talk of old."

Meli had hardly heard a word they had said; she had been sitting there, just thinking about Frodo. She politely exclaimed, "Oh no my Lord, please don't stop!"

"Well, we do have your unfinished business to discuss." He said looking at Gandalf seriously as the wizard nodded.

"My business…what do you mean?" asked Meli.

Gandalf's smile fell into a frown. "It is the spell, Meli." She looked confused and shook her head as Gandalf continued. "Have you thought about how you are going to tell Frodo about the spell?"

Panic struck Meli like a swift blow, as she quickly said, "No! I do not plan to tell him! Don't you think he has suffered enough! Why bring that grief upon him, Gandalf? Why should we give evil the satisfaction of succeeding?"

Gandalf sighed. He knew well, the extent of the pain and grief that had claimed Frodo's life. And he knew how it had affected Meli. The thought of what this spell had done to her, and how Frodo would feel about it was profound in the wizard's heart. The last thing he would ever want to do was to bring more pain to his dear friends.

Gandalf's hesitation prompted Cirdan to help explain, "Because the ship will not pass, if he is not told. That evil can not enter Aman, unspent."

"Unspent!" Meli stood in anger as that word brought everything that she had gone through back to her as a slap in the face. "What do you mean…unspent!"

Gandalf softly placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her. "It can not be helped, the spell was cast. It can not be undone...at least not by anyone here. It is my hope the Valar can do something once we reach Aman, but in the meantime it is here and until the person it was cast upon is aware of it, it is unspent. Lord Cirdon is right. The ship will not pass until Frodo knows."

He kneeled down to her eye level, looking deep into her eyes as her emotions swelled over this horrid nightmare. "I do not want to hurt Frodo anymore than you do, Meli."

He said this with so much hurt and pain in his voice that understanding finally sunk in for her. She now knew he was only saying what hadto be done.

"How can I do this Gandalf?" She whispered wearily. "I can not do this."

Gandalf closed his eyes for a second in thought, "Perhaps Lady Galadriel and I can help you with this Meli. I will not say how, as yet. Let me reflect on this for a while."

Now deep in her heart Meli felt guilty, selfish. Wishing and hoping that Frodo would give up his home, the beautiful Shire, his life; so she could have him. Of course she wanted it also because of his pain, she had hoped that he would find healing; yet now more was to come; and all just because he would love her. Before, she never had any intentions of telling him about the spell. She felt that as long as he didn't know, it would not harm him in any way. And she could use the spell to help him; knowing when to take care of him by providing him comfort and love. But now, she had no choice.

Later that night, as Meli sat before her mirror and combed her hair, her mind pondered this difficult situation. All she could think about was Frodo and the pain he would suffer once he found out about the spell. She felt panicked about it and kept trying to find a way out. She even considered disappearing.

"Perhaps Frodo could sail to Aman and find healing without ever knowing about the spell, or about me," she thought.

Her heart throbbed at that contemplation, and what it would do to her parents; not to mention how tragic her own life would be. How painful it would be to forsake her love for Frodo. To fade away, a whisper of existence for ages beyond ages in the east, never to find healing, never to see the Blessed Realm or her people ever again. Never to feel the love that Frodo would feel for her. She shuddered at that thought but felt it would be worth it to spare Frodo of this pain.

"He's seen enough," she said aloud. Then she realized that it is not _her_ that would prevent the ship from sailing, but the evil itself, evil that would follow Frodo wherever he went whether she was there or not. The ship still would not cross the straightway. And then the reality of their illness settled in her thought.

Wearily she bowed her head into her hands as she realized, "I would never be able to hide the pain from Frodo. And once he found out about it, he may not forgive me for not telling him."

Gandalf tapped on her door. Meli opened it slowly as though dread might step through the doorway. "Come in," she said softly.

The white wizard looked very tired as he stepped into the room. Meli noticed right away the heavy smell of tobacco which clung to his hair and clothes. And his white robe was heavily soiled, revealing that he had been for a long walk.

Gandalf motioned for Meli to sit and he himself sat down on a large chair next to her bureau. He began speaking right away, "Lady Galadriel and I will help you with this, Meli. We will tell Frodo in a dream if you wish."

Meli's eyes went wide, but she did not have to ask, remembering well, the powers of the Lady. And now, stronger than ever; she became aware of the glow of power within Gandalf. Immediately she noticed the Ring on his finger that he now openly wore. It was red like fire, yet she could feel its diminishing power deep within. Her thoughts turned to Cirdan's words, that the ship would bring forth the Ringbearers and she knew with relief in her heart that Gandalf would be joining them.

"A dream," said Meli with aching in her voice. "Yes, it seems to be the best way…to tell him about it all…without too much time for thought in between. Oh but Gandalf, what a nightmare it will be. What if he does not believe it to be true?"

Gandalf replied with sadness, "He will believe it Meli. He will have no choice."

Finally the day came when the elves and hobbits were due to arrive. Gandalf had left for Hobbiton the day before to accompany them. Meli spent the morning going over the ship once more; shining it, inspecting it, and checking each and every inch of this white wonder. She was proud that she had participated in its creation.

Gently she caressed the rail as she descended the steps. She placed fresh flowers in each of the rooms, and added an extra bundle to the small room that had been prepared for Bilbo and Frodo. She smoothed every wrinkle from his bunk, filled his water pitcher and opened the curtains on his small round window to let the sun warm the blankets. She looked around the room and imagined him combing his hair in front of the mirror. Her reflection stared back as she stood there. Her hair felt wild and out of place, her eyes seemed tired and she considered for the fourth time whether she should change her dress. She worried at the thoughts that would go through Frodo's mind as he first laid eyes upon her.

"How could he ever love me" she thought as she slowly closed his door behind her.

Later, she waited below in the great room just in case they came through the gate a little early. There were small portal windows lining each side and she placed a chair under one to stand on and watch. Cirdan laughed at her as he sat at the table drinking tea, for she could not stand still. Up and down the chair she went, pacing and twirling her hair on her finger. The time seemed to drag and noon became afternoon, became early evening. Finally, they arrived.

There were many elven folk, some Meli knew, others she did not for they were of the woodland realm, far in the north of the great forest. She was glad they had built such a grand ship to behold the fairness that met her eyes. She saw Elrond and her heart warmed. Then she saw the Lady Galadriel. Her desire was to run out and hug them both. But then, she saw Bilbo and leading him on one side was Sam, and on the other was Frodo.

Her heart pounded as she looked upon his face, feeling as though she had known him forever, but had missed him for too long. More than the others, she wanted to run out and fall into his arms. It was as though she was falling in love, all over again. Trembling, she grasped the back of the chair so not to fall off.

Meanwhile, Cirdan had gone out to greet them all. She saw Gandalf farewell the hobbits; their tears and sadness touched her heart. Suddenly a surge of nerves flowed through her; Frodo stood rigid as Gandalf revealed his plans to leave. His blanket weighed heavily within her as the pain in his heart sobbed with Sam's tears. And she felt his intense effort not to cry.

Sam. They had told her of his devotion and assistance to Frodo; to the edges of the very fires of Mordor. A soft reverence for him had grown within her. And she loved him also, like a brother who had carried the weight of all of Frodo's pain; never faltering, never ceasing, with courage and will, to the very end. Suddenly she felt Frodo's pain ease some, and she wondered what he was telling Sam. Just then she heard some of the other elves coming down the steps. She hopped off the chair quickly and pretended to be preparing the evening meal, just as they had begun to come through door.

Very delicately, she cut the green from the carrot, being careful not to waste any orange. She had become very precise like that with everything she did. But mostly she was stalling. She had everything prepared for the evening supper and wanted so badly to go up top. But she knew she could not let Frodo see her yet. She did not in anyway want to interfere with his farewell with the other hobbits. She had felt his sorrow at saying goodbye to his friends very strongly and she was fighting back the tears just as he was. But at the same time, her emotions celebrated with excitement. It had been so long since she saw Frodo for the first and last time. How many times had she thought of this day, pictured in her mind just how it would be, to see his wonderful face again, and to see the look on his face when his eyes first fell upon her? Would he really feel the same as her? Would he really love her?

Again, self doubt filled her. "How could he ever love me?"

Just then Galadriel came down the steps and looked at Meli as if to say "Well, are you ready?"

Meli dropped the knife and carrot on the counter and ran into her arms.

Galadriel held her with motherly love and said "Meli, you must fight the tears, you do not want Frodo to see you for the first time with red eyes, do you?" She smiled warmly as she softly giggled and brushed away Meli's tear with the back of her forefinger.

Meli immediately felt warm comfort with those eyes that had so much wisdom, so much depth, and had seen all that she had been through. She nodded and took a deep breath, "Is it time?"

"Come on" replied Galadriel, smiling beautifully as she took her hand.

They walked up the steps and out into the open air. The sun was shining brightly as it began to settle upon the horizon ahead. The boat was slowly slipping away from the dock. Meli looked around, but did not see him. Elrond and Adreal walked up and greeted her with warm hugs that made her realize just how much she had missed them both. They then fell into conversation about a song that Adreal had written.

Meli looked around. Bilbo had found a nice spot against the wall of the cabin on a supply box and was already comfortably snoozing. She excused herself, then went over and gently kissed his brow, but he did not awaken; his breathing softly moved his vest.

Galadriel approached her and whispered, "Frodo is behind the cabin, at the stern, waving farewell to his friends."

Meli smiled and nodded. She did not know what to do with her self as she waited. Galadriel joined the other elves, which were mingling center deck in conversation with each other. Meli was far too nervous for chatter. She walked over to the stalls and began petting Shadowfax and Nessa. They both nuzzled her and each other affectionately. She sighed deeply, with attempts to calm the adrenaline. Once again, time had seemed to stop.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 **

**Meeting in Love**

A simple phial of glass illuminated the dusky sky as it glowed brightly across the water. It beamed in farewell, from the heart of a little hobbit; as his love touched the eyes of those he held dear. It was a gift, from the Lady Galadriel and within it was captured the light of a star; the light of Eärendil. Its history was as wondrous as was the soul who held it, but his heart weighed heavily from the trauma he had endured.

Frodo gritted his teeth, as his throat swelled and his mind said farewell to all of life in the east. Slowly he let the phial drop as the ship cleared the harbor. His head bowed with relief, as he no longer had to conceal his grief for leaving his friends; yet still he refused to cry. Gandalf placed his hand on his shoulder in understanding and repeated the words he had said many times before; "You _will_ be happy there Frodo."

Frodo looked up to Gandalf and fully trusted his council, but deep in his thoughts he asked the question he had asked over and over, "Will I find peace?"

Whether he did or not, Frodo knew it was no use going on any longer in the Shire. It was too exhausting trying to hide his grief and his illness of which the intensity was ever stronger. All desire for love and life in the Shire had left him and living had slowly become a torment. The Ring itself may well be destroyed, but the guilt he felt, and the desire for it was unquenchable and nagging. To maintain a normal life in the eyes of his people had become impossible and he knew well, they would not tolerate it. He had even tried to hide his depression from Gandalf, for he felt great shame to desire something that had been so evil and he felt great guilt for his failure. Yet Gandalf knew from the beginning. It was as if he could peer into Frodo's heart and understand the torment he was going through. He knew just when to show up and lend comfort.

The kindly wizard put his arm around Frodo's shoulders and hugged him. He ached with helplessness, that he could not relieve the grief for this honorable little hobbit. Again he said the words, "My dear Frodo, you _will_ find happiness." Just then a chime rang out summoning all, aboard the white ship. "Come, the others are gathering for a song of prayer."

As they rounded the cabin they saw everyone was gathering upon the center deck. Frodo sighed as his eyes fell upon Galadriel and Elrond who were standing together talking, near the rail. Once again, it struck Frodo, the loveliness and elegance of the elves. He was ever thankful that he still had desire for beauty and goodness; the evil had not succeeded in robbing him of that too.

"Yes, I will be able to live among them in serenity and never miss many of those silly hobbits." He thought. But the pain of missing Sam, Merry and Pippin was still too fresh in his heart. "At least I'll have Bilbo, for a while."

He looked around once more at the pleasant faces of the elves, feeling much respect and love for them, until…he looked near the stable doors. Lord Elrond walked over and touched her shoulder and she turned.

A thousand whispers filled Frodo's heart; a vision of loveliness far beyond any he had ever seen. Her eyes met with his and as she smiled sweetly, he thought he might falter. He returned the smile and they held the moment for a second or two. All time stopped. Whispers of desire swirled in his thoughts, his breathing became deep. She turned to take Elrond's offered hand, and as he led her to the center of the ship Frodo's heart absorbed every step, every movement; from the lightness of her tiny white feet to the caresses of her soft brown curls as they gently hugged her hips. Immense warmth poured over Frodo; his heart was drowning in desire.

Wonder came upon him as his thoughts whirled in a flurry of curiosity. "She is so beautiful! I have never seen _her_ before. She is enchanting! I can not believe my eyes! Who is this?" His mind raced and pondered, "This is no elf, or is she? She is lovely as satin, but…no…she is a hobbit! No, no, she couldn't be." He argued with himself.

She was not like the women he grew up around. He looked at the smooth whiteness of her feet as her gown billowed around her steps. Although she wore no shoes, they were small and delicate with no fur. "No, she is an elf." He decided, but she was slightly smaller than him!

"Gandalf, do you know who that is?" He asked in a hurried whisper.

Gandalf smiled faintly as if he half expected this reaction and whispered back. "She is Melanna, daughter of Geren and Linanna of the Colter Elves.

"How can she be an elf! She is so small and where did she come from?" Frodo shot back, but Gandalf hushed him, as the song was about to begin.

It was Meli that began the song; full and beautiful her velvety voice flowed softly from her lips and echoed far across the waters. It was a song of prayer, to ask for guidance and safety as they crossed the sea. It was a song of thanks and remembrance of all blessings. As she ended the first verse, Elrond came in with his strong tenor melodies and together they sang some verses in the common tongue and some in old Elvish Sindarin from the Eldar days.

Frodo hung on every word and his gaze never left her as he basked in desire; smooth and fresh as warm summer mist. It was invigorating after feeling such grief only moments before.

Through the entire song Meli was so nervous, she looked up towards the clouds or at Elrond or had her eyes closed; knowing that if their eyes met again, she would falter. And all while she sang, she could feel his eyes upon her. It was all she could do to maintain and remember the words. Yet it sounded flawless and when they sang the last words, _"Guide us with your grace, give us faith so we'll be safe," _ their eyes did meet and suddenly Frodo felt himself blush so deeply he had to turn away, not noticing she did the same. Suddenly he had the urge to run below and hide.

"Come, Frodo", said Gandalf amused at Frodo's reaction, but not letting on. "Let us take Bilbo below and get him settled into his bunk. This has been a long day for him and he will need rest before supper."

"Yes, Gandalf" Frodo replied distractedly and gently took Bilbo's elbow to help him up from the box he had been dozing on. Then almost mechanically he said, "You are right he has had a long day and could use a rest." As he carefully guided Bilbo down the steps below he glanced once more at her. She had her back to him and was looking out to sea, and he wondered if she had noticed him.

Meli felt her face redden. For a moment she did not know what to do and she felt extremely awkward. Her heart was pounding and she could not contain the tears. She had turned to hide them and dry her face until she mustered enough courage to turn back around and look at him. But when she turned, she was disappointed to see he was already heading below with Gandalf and Bilbo.

All Frodo could do was lie on his bunk and think about Melanna. He thought of leaving the cabin and looking for her. Gandalf was probably sitting up top with the others, smoking his pipe and talking about the voyage. He wondered if she was up there with them. He thought of joining them, but he could not muster the courage to come face to face with her yet.

"What is wrong with me?" He thought. Never before had he felt so shy. Usually he was very outgoing with hobbit women, but none had ever made him feel _this _way. So there he lay, listening to Bilbo softly snore, and wondering why he had never heard of the Colter Elves. To him, she seemed to be at home with Elrond and the others as if they had been a family forever. He searched his mind and realized no one had ever mentioned the Colter Elves before.

Finally after much thought, the supper bell chimed and it was time to arouse Bilbo. He knew he would be very hungry. His appetite was the one thing that seemed to grow ever stronger with the old chap in aging. And of course as soon as he awoke, the first words he said were, "When is supper?" Old age had its disadvantages however and slowness was a key issue with Bilbo. Frodo remained patient as he helped Bilbo wash up. He felt that this time with him would be far too short. His fondness for his cousin seemed to grow ever stronger and he relished each moment they had together. But deep in the back of his thought, he felt with urgency, the need to run up top to see.

Upon entering the great dining hall, Frodo got a sense of how large the ship really was. The dining hall was large enough for the tables to hold all, with a sitting area and room to spare for a kitchen. The atmosphere was warm and cozy with intricately carved white wood and wrought iron ornaments forged with much care and loveliness. There was a heavy iron fireplace in one corner with a small fire and chairs around it set up for talk and song. The elegant iron lanterns hanging here and there gave the room a smooth golden glow. It was very pleasing to Frodo's eyes.

The room had already filled with the elves and Frodo realized he was barely on time. There were only two seats left to take and plates of food were already being passed around. Bilbo immediately headed for them, but suddenly Frodo stopped as he saw that he would end up directly across from Melanna. Adrenaline started flowing fiercely through him as he searched in vain for another place to sit, but there were none. Bilbo called to him impatiently "Come on Frodo". Slowly he stood before his chair feeling his face redden and he tried desperately not to make eye contact. But he remembered his manners and managed to smile and look pleasant.

"Ah Frodo, we were beginning to think you two were going to sleep through supper," said Gandalf amusingly as he passed a basket of fresh bread.

Everyone smiled as Frodo with head half bowed looked around the table and mumbled "Well we made it on time I guess".

"Frodo my lad" said Bilbo loudly with a grin "I don't think you've had the opportunity to meet Meli!"

Frodo looked at Bilbo in surprise. His thoughts began reeling, "Meli? Bilbo knows her…how?" He smiled shyly as he looked at Meli and said, "No Uncle, I have not."

Suddenly he could not help but feel she was familiar in some way. Not by looks, but something about her made him feel he had known her at one time. From closer up her beauty was even more enchanting yet she was earthly and natural. Every detail of her face was perfect; her eyes sweet brown, her tiny little nose, the softness of her skin and her dark brown hair so different. It was not straight and smooth like most elven women but curly like Hobbits, yet softer and longer. He had great desire to touch it, to take the clip from behind and let the braids unwind; to see it sway softly in a breeze, then settle gently upon her hips. She was wearing a violet gown and it graced her body like flower petals gently enveloping a bud. It was soft like the wings of a butterfly and he could not stop looking at the way the collar gently embraced her neck. The thing that was so extraordinary though was her smile. She had soft rosy lips and dimples that made Frodo feel as if great happiness would come over him if he could dive right into the middle of one. Oh how he longed to touch her. Love was taking hold and he was afraid the whole room could feel him quiver.

Now for the first time the thought crossed his mind, "What would it be like to _be_ with someone". His depression moaned within his heart in a nagging reminder of its presence. Suddenly he felt very sad; sad that he would never be able to give of himself fully to a relationship with anyone if he did not find healing. And even if he did, the scars were deep; it would be so unfair to someone as lovely as this elven maiden. Swiftly his thoughts laughed cruelly inside his heart as he scolded himself for entertaining the thought of being with her.

"You fool of a Baggins! She could never love a broken down mortal who had danced with evil!" He attempted to dismiss his sweet feelings of love; to drag his thoughts and attention away from her, to feel cold and unfeeling, numb to all around him.

Immediately Meli felt it and she began to tremble. She had not the benefit of feeling his sweet emotions. It was only his sadness and pain simmering inside her, mingling with her own. She wondered if her heart was going to be able to take it or would it burst right in front of everyone! She struggled immensely to contain her self without showing her discomfort.

"This is Meli of the Colter Elves!" cried Bilbo with delight. Frodo nonchalantly bowed and in a cold tone of voice, yet holding on to courtesy, he said, "I am honored to meet you."

Silence fell about the table and Galadriel looked at Meli in concern for her tremors. "Yes," said Elrond clearing his throat, "and I'm sure she would like to share how the Fellowship was responsible for saving the lives of her people."

Frodo looked at her with surprise, "How…uh…I mean, what did the Fellowship do?" he stammered as slowly he sunk into his seat being very careful not to miss it.

Galadriel's concern for Meli grew with this suggestion. She looked over at the little elf and contemplated whether she should rescue her from this invitation to speak. She had been concerned that the little elf looked as bad as she did. Her face was pale and puffy around the eyes. Her hair was wild and out of place and she clearly was trembling. The Lady's heart grew heavy, this was not going well. But deep within Meli's mind, Galadriel could discern a little bit of relief that Elrond had given her words to preoccupy her nerves, so she waited for her response.

Meli took a deep fluttered breath and began. Frodo basked in the sweet, smooth sound of her voice, completely oblivious to her tremors. She began her tale with a brief history of the Colters, then the mysterious fall of her city and how it came to pass that her people had disappeared so long ago. Her brown eyes reflected the tragedy as she spoke; the memory of it enhanced by Frodo's reaction as his blanket weighed her down. She spoke of her feelings though she left out the intensity of her mourning for Giliath and focused on her missing family. The sadness in her eyes made Frodo feel as though it had happened to him. She told how she had coped through the long years not knowing if they were alive or dead. Frodo saddened more thinking of the fear she must have felt for her own fate.

Meli continued to tremble and worried it would be noticed. She was surprised at how intense Frodo's feelings were about her past. The blanket was growing heavier and she feared she would not be able to maintain her cool. So, quickly she ended the tale and with a bright smile she brought out the blessings of the time.

"Lord Elrond took me in. He was a wonderful foster-father for me." She looked over at Elrond who was smiling warmly at her. Frodo caught the gleam in their eyes and it became evident to him the closeness of their friendship. Meli continued. "I spent my time in Imladris learning new ways. I was intensely interested in the history of Middle Earth. I could not get my fill of all the books!"

"I seem to remember she spent most of the time swimming!" Elrond exclaimed amusingly.

They all laughed as if it was an inside joke. She blushed deeply and very briefly explained her passion for the water.

Frodo's memory of swimming as a child caught a second of his thought and in the following instant the tragedy of his parents drowning came to mind.

Meli felt a shutter of fear and she wondered what it was. Again, she quickly moved the topic of conversation. She spoke of her hesitation to sail into the west, "I did not know if my people would ever come back, so I decided to wait. The years passed so slowly."

Frodo began to wonder why he had not met her in Rivendell. He dismissed this thought considering the many elves that lived there and decided she could have easily been there without being seen.

Her story continued, as she told of the wondrous day when to everyone's surprise the Colters walked the path into Imladris. "We learned that they had been taken as slaves to serve the Orc holds in Moria."

The memory of the dark dusty halls of Moria crept into Frodo's mind. He shuttered at the thought of the Colters' experience and wondered how they had ever survived.

Meli bravely carried on, "They were thin and weak, but able to act when a chance for freedom came the day the Fellowship arrived at Balin's tomb. It was the invasion, the battle and then the Fellowship's flight that distracted the orcs long enough that my people were able to escape."

Frodo smiled at this news, happy that such a tremendous blessing came out of that horrible day. Meli felt the blanket lighten as she continued.

"They made their way carefully to Imladris for safety. They did not know the condition of our city. They had suffered so much trauma, they did not want to take a chance on being re-captured. After they arrived in Imladris, we all learned about the Fellowship and put the pieces together."

Her eyes fixed on Frodo as Elrond slowly stood and raised his goblet. All stood in response and held their goblets high. He exclaimed earnestly, "We are eternally grateful and especially to you, Frodo. You were very brave to take on such a quest. To Frodo! May all your days be blessed!"

Frodo blushed as everyone took up the toast, "To Frodo!" A sip of wine was taken with every eye upon him, each one revealing love and honor.

Elrond then turned and continued, "To Gandalf…for his guidance, wisdom and love of all that is good upon this earth!" "To Gandalf!" they all cried as the wizard smiled amusingly.

Meli looked lovingly at Gandalf, drew a heavy sigh and sipped her wine. The others followed reverently. Slowly she sat down feeling the quaking within Frodo. The wine relaxed her a little and she took a calming breath to continue her story.

She told how word of war soon put a fierce feeling of fear into the Colters. "They immediately began preparations to pass into the west."

Suddenly at this point her story had an abrupt vagueness as she told very briefly how her gift of foresight was useful towards the war and of her decision to travel to Lothlorien to aid Galadriel and Celeborn. Frodo looked over at Galadriel and she smiled warmly at him. He was bursting with questions but waited patiently for Meli to finish.

Sensing this, suddenly Meli changed the subject. She began asking many questions about the Shire. Frodo answered her with so much pride and fondness of his home that he forgot his many questions for the moment. She listened indulgingly as he described with obvious love the beautiful land she had seen. She felt the pain he had in leaving his home and it reminded her of the episodes of pain she had experienced at the havens. The questions she had of that time period had been nagging at her for a long while.

Unable to resist she asked, "How was the Shire when you returned from the war, Frodo? Had the evil spread that far?" He hesitated as his eyes revealed the pain of those days and he looked over at Gandalf, who was well aware of all that the hobbits had been through. The familiar blanket of emotions billowed within Meli in sadness, as he answered her.

Her eyes never left his as he spoke of the destruction and war, the death of evil and the sadness he felt in the spilt blood of all who had perished; her breath drew deep with memory as his words confirmed her suspicions. Great guilt had resided in this wonderful hobbit; guilt that only she understood, but disagreed with.

"I could have done more, perhaps more lives would have been saved," he said.

Gandalf quickly interrupted, "You did all that could be done, dear Frodo."

Frodo sighed and continued while the others listened quietly. All the detail he revealed fit perfectly with the emotions Meli had felt. It was as though a candle had been lit, revealing the placement of a room to be just as it had seemed in the darkness. But now it had clarity and reason. Frodo finished his tale by bringing out the bright side of it all. Great pride strengthened his voice as he spoke of the actions of the hobbits in restoring their home.

"Everyone played a part; they created a place far better than it was before." He beamed. Gently and ever so sweetly his blanket fell within her and settled softly.

Just as he finished, the meal was over. Suddenly everyone started clearing things away with much commotion and as Meli stood and picked up her plate, Frodo saw out of the corner of his eye the finger on her left hand was missing. He looked down at his own and thoughts edged to beginning, but he didn't get much of a chance to ponder it when Bilbo teetered upon standing and he had to catch him.

"Frodo, take me up on deck with Gandalf" he said. I should like to enjoy a little bit of Old Toby before I retire for the night.

"Now Bilbo, you stopped smoking long ago," Frodo scolded "remember how it made you ill the last time." Bilbo frowned and then Frodo didn't have the heart to stop him. "Maybe he'll be alright, why not let him enjoy himself." He thought as he smiled and said, "Alright Bilbo, perhaps you can handle it better this time. You _do_ seem to have more vigor than usual with the events of this voyage."

Everyone stayed up top for quite some time, enjoying the warm night air. It was pleasurable for the elves on this festive voyage and there was much singing and laughter. Frodo and Meli, kept sneaking peeks at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking. He couldn't stop looking for her hand, though she did well to keep it hidden; the nagging feeling made him itch inside with wonder.

The joyous mood helped Meli to maintain her control and with every note she sang, it was all he heard. His heart panged more with longing to be able to love someone and be loved back. But he could not see it. Not with the pain he endured, not if he could find no healing. As conversation and song wove its way far from anything unhappy or sad, Frodo sat in silence. Thousands of questions cluttered his mind as they swam in the thickness of the love that had flooded him. But it seemed not the time or the place to raise them, so he attempted to focus on the joyous mood, somewhat succeeding for a little while anyway. Finally they all parted for their cabins and went to bed late, but in good humor.

Meli could not sleep, and knew it was no use trying. She passed some time trying to read, but was finding it difficult to follow the words. After what seemed a long time, Galadriel knocked softly on her door.

"He is finally asleep now. Gandalf had to help him with that. I am ready to begin." Once more, Meli flew into her arms like a scared child. Galadriel held her softly and reminded her, "This is not the only way, Meli. We could tell him when he is awake. But it would take more time and it will be harder on the both of you. Remember. This ship will not pass if we do not do this. Do you want to go on with the dream?"

Meli looked up at her and nodded. "I cannot wait here," she said breathlessly, "I need air."

"Very well," replied Galadriel, "Would you like for me to hail Adreal to sit with you?"

Meli sighed as she picked up her handkerchief, "No, thank you. I want to be alone."

With one more hug, Galadriel handed her a cloak that hung behind the door and with heavy heart Meli slowly climbed up the steps. As she stepped out into the night air she could see the clouds forming high in the sky; they were beginning to cover the crystal stars. She walked towards the bow where there was a narrow passageway between the horse stalls and the rail. She stopped and turned as her eyes met with Shadowfax's. Smiling, she walked over and softly sang him a song, as she tenderly stroked his face. He nodded and nuzzled her cheek as Nessa poked her head out of her stall, wanting affection also.

"So my sweet Nessa," Meli said. "What do you think of this handsome Shadowfax?"

Nessa whinnied in agreement and nodded at Shadowfax making Meli laugh softly. "You seem to be happy, my sweet girl." She said.

The openings to the stalls faced the stern and along the back wall, just above the horses' heads, were stained glass windows. Meli could see the moon shining through the colors and it reminded her of her dream. She walked around the stable to the outside at the point of the bow. There was a platform creating the look of a balcony with the beautiful windows at the back reflecting the soft moonlight and a rail just high enough to rest her arms and chin. There was little wind and the ship edged slowly as though hesitating with thought.

The warm night air would be comforting, she thought if she began to feel too emotional. As she gazed out towards the sea she could see very far off a rainstorm misting down to the water from dark grey clouds above. She thought about how few the years had been since she first saw Frodo. Few for her time being immortal, but how long they seemed to take to pass. Her thoughts were always on this day and how and when and if ever it would come.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**Pain and Truth**

Frodo lay in his bunk thinking about her. He tossed and turned, wondering about all that had been told. But his thought kept coming back to her hand and the missing finger. How could that have happened to such a delicate elf? What had she been through? He thought of his own missing finger and how it had happened. He shuttered as his struggle with Gollum came once again into memory, the feel of his sharp teeth as they clamped down, the pain overbearing. But he quickly released it from his mind, as he had always done. Refusing to think about it somehow eased the pain.

He had conversation with Gandalf before they retired and wondered why he was so mysteriously vague about it all. "Meli has been through quite a lot Frodo, let her tell you of it in her own time," he had said.

"Why? Why will _you_ not tell me?" Frodo cried.

Yet all he would say is "It is not for me to tell, Frodo. You must be very patient".

Bilbo was even more, vague seemingly innocent of any knowledge concerning Meli except to say that he thought she was "a delightful lass!" He did, however speak of the times when she read books to him in Rivendell to improve her speech of the common language. He also went on about how she had loved to swim.

"She would disappear for hours and hours some days, just to be near the water," he said.

Though he ached to ask, something inside Frodo knew that he should not ask Bilbo about the finger or anything else that may have an unhappy answer. So he let it drop as Bilbo yawned and begged for sleep.

Bilbo now softly snored again, seemingly in a peaceful sleep that made Frodo envious. He was tired, but his mind would not stop. "Meli, Meli" he thought. "What a wonderful nickname, for the elven Melanna. How will I ever find peace now that I have met her?"

Finally, after a while, Frodo fell into a deep sleep, but it was not a natural sleep and as he slipped away, he thought he heard a soothing chant in Gandalf's voice. A dream began to take him, one drawn from the very depths of a little Colter's mind and the memories of those who loved her. And in this slumber he found himself back in Rivendell, not physically but in spirit and he could see all that was happening as though he was there in the shadows of whispers.

He saw Meli swimming just as Bilbo had spoke of; she was smiling and playing in a pool away behind the houses and before the falls. The pool had formed round and was outlined with large rocks that were covered in ivy that grew very thick. She waded out of the deep water onto the thick grassy shore laughing and plopped herself down on the grass to bask in the sun for a while.

For a moment desire began to well up in Frodo again and he longed to stroke the wet beads of water that glistened on her forearms. A desire intense, but it did not last because abruptly all went dark, as if she were lying in the grass at night. Suddenly to his horror she began gasping and shrieked as if in incredible pain! There was blood on her shoulder and memory of his stab wound came to him as though he were being pierced anew!

He jerked and tossed in his bunk and began to breathe heavily, as sweat and tears began to stain his pillow. His dream wove around bits and pieces now of the events after. He saw everything that she had experienced; the warnings, her fear and confusion. He saw the first glorious moment that her eyes fell upon him and how she had followed and watched him. But the trauma of her stab wound masked his awareness of her feelings for him and he did not see the intensity of her love. He saw her at the council meeting, then at the library and as he saw her learn of the spell; so did he. He coughed in his sleep, as the shock choked him.

Suddenly, he was aware that she had experienced all the pain that he had gone through; from Weathertop to that very night on the ship. Trembling, he turned on his side. The dream continued. He saw all the help that she and Galadriel gave him, and attempted to give him. Then memory came to his mind of those times; how he had wondered at the voice that sang sweetly in his head and soothed him when the bad dreams of the Emyn Muil woke him. It was her voice he had heard, yet it was Galadriel's that he heard when facing Shelob; she had reminded him of the gift of light. He remembered the vision of Galadriel that lifted him up in this time of need. All along he had thought it was _all _Galadriel. He had wondered how she knew just at the precise time, he had faltered; how she had known _when_ to help. Now it was clear to him; it began with Meli.

And then it hit him. It was _her_ sweet voice he heard along with Sam's at the end; when he so badly wanted to let go of that rock and fall into the abyss, ending all of his pain. _"Don't leave me!"_ He had heard.

Finally the dream ended as Galadriel lay her bloodied body down in her bed; his old bed, to sleep in Lothlorien. He wearily cried in his sleep, with the sight of her bloodied hand as it lay upon her breast. "No! No!" Now Galadriel was done and let go of his mind to awake.

Frodo was still breathing heavily, sobbing and shaking. But awake he did not, for now he was given a gift; the gift of feeling _Meli's _thoughts and sweet emotions. This gift did not come from Galadriel, or from Gandalf. This gift came as a song from a much higher power and she sang it with love and admiration of his selfless nature. It was a tapestry, sung heavily with multi-colored threads, each embroidered intricately throughout the notes. The beautiful notes brought awareness to him of how deep Meli's love was; it played the scale in wondrous splendor. The song showed him her resolve to get through it all in hopes of helping him along the way. The melodies played her reasons; reasons for not sailing to Aman sooner, reasons for not letting him find out about her earlier, reasons for enduring the pain and the suffering, reasons for waiting. The melodic threads wound in and out of his conscience and he saw her, felt her, and knew that she loved him, as much as he loved her. It soothed him as softly and gently it warmed him; and the song faded away as lightly as a feather blowing in the wind.

He awoke, and began to shake his head hoping to clear it. "It was only a dream," he thought. He was relieved that her pain was not real. Slowly he got up and washed his face in the basin. His breathing was deep as he tried to recover from the horrible nightmare turned wondrous dream. He put on his pants and shirt as his mind soothed him again, "It was only a dream; a dream within a dream."

But as he was buttoning his shirt, he looked down and suddenly his eye fell upon his missing finger. He thought of hers and reality flooded into his mind; and it was then that he knew that the dream had been put into his mind by great powers. It _was_ real and true; as true as his reflection looking back at him in the mirror.

Emotions began swirling in him again as his mind began to contemplate what he had learned. Suddenly anger swelled in him so intensely that he thought he would explode as the shock of it all hit him. He could hear Bilbo snoring softly in his bunk and thought for a second of waking him. But the anger subsided a little. Sadly, he sat down on the bunk and thought through it all, carefully going over all of the events. His emotions went up and down, as he sorted it all out.

Anger peaked, as he thought again about the evil Witch King. Raging in his heart he wished it untrue. And then he remembered how that evil foe had perished at the hands of Eowyn and Merry and he remembered the suffering they held for a time as result of their valor. They would forever hold a special place in his heart, he decided. And within him, he knew there was nothing to change any of it.

Then he remembered the gift; the tapestry, the song and her love softened him. A smile crossed his lips. "She loves me", he thought and the sound of those words in his mind made his adrenalin erupt in his chest until it spilled over all his other emotions. His mind cleared and he began to realize the healing qualities this new love held. A deep breath cleansed his lungs and he realized he now must face Meli. But with this thought, suddenly his rolling emotions simmered again and he wondered how he was going to be able to do that. She knew all the secrets he had been carrying. All the unspoken pain he had decided not to share with anyone.

Then at this moment, intense grief swelled in him and his heart began to pound as he realized she had seen the Eye! Panic threatened to overcome him, but he fought it intensely, focusing on her love. Now he had the desire to hold her, and comfort her. But there were still many questions that needed answers. It was time to look for Gandalf.

The dining hall had a softer glow now with some of the lanterns out. Frodo entered the room and saw Gandalf was standing by the fire as if waiting for him. Emotions flowed through him. "It is true isn't it" he choked, unable to contain his tears.

"Yes, dear Frodo," said Gandalf as he turned and looked with softness in his eyes. "We felt this was the best way to tell you, hoping it would put you and Meli through as little pain as possible. We knew you would want to know about it all."

Frodo suddenly felt very weak and sat down. "How long have you known about all of this, Gandalf?"

Gandalf answered trying to be gentle and comforting. "I did not know until after the Ring was destroyed. I can imagine how you must feel, Frodo." He placed his hand on his shoulder and softly proclaimed. "She loves you too, dear Frodo." Frodo looked up at his old friend as a small smile sweetened his tears. The wizard continued. "Some things are best left to fate. Meli _knew_ you weren't ready to leave the Shire and she did not want you to leave just for her. She foresaw long ago when she was but a small child that you may possibly be together on this ship if the course of the world was won by goodness. She knew she must not meddle with fate. It was very difficult for her to be patient, and it was very brave, for if you perished so would she."

Frodo looked up at him quickly with those words and as he tried to breathe and contain his pain, he softly whispered, "She can feel my grief now, can't she, Gandalf?"

Gandalf kneeled down and looked warmly into Frodo's eyes, "Yes, Frodo, but she has a strong will and she has come through it all with amazing resilience and strength; just as you did. She needs to also feel your love and that will give her comfort. Go to her now, so that you will both find healing. She is waiting upon the bow."

Suddenly Frodo felt very frightened at facing her, as thoughts flew through his mind. He took a deep breath, pulled a hanky from his pocket and dried his tears as best as he could. Then he nervously headed up the steps and across the ship, wondering all along; what would he say.

As Frodo began his travels through the dream, Meli held the rail of the bow tightly. At one point she faltered and had to sit down upon the platform, holding her head in her hands as the tears and fears of Frodo's blanket once again riddled her body and mind. But stronger yet than all of Frodo's pain that she was feeling, was the grief she held in her own, for having to put him through it.

"He's seen enough pain!" She cried out into the night, unheard by anyone on the ship as the sound of the waves muffled the words. But her words _were_ heard, by the sweet understanding of a far away heart and she was cloaked in the warmness of a multi-colored tapestry. A 'softness' touched her reminding her of the joy and happiness that was to come for her and Frodo. Then she saw a vision as the grey clouds on the horizon partially parted.

**_It was a great house with many children playing in the yard. Her parents, and many friends were there; Gandalf, Glorfindel and Bilbo! The sunset was settling on the water in the distance and there was Frodo approaching her with a flower and a smile. _**

Then the clouds closed again and the vision faded away. Her gaze was drawn up high into the sky and from a tiny opening she could see her star. It shined down on her as it had done so many times twinkling as if in a smile and she felt comforted.

He stepped onto the platform of the bow, and there she was, standing at the rail looking out at the greyness of the sea. The hood of her cloak was up over her head and the cape was wrapped snuggly around her although it was quite warm. As he approached her she turned slowly and once again the wonderment of her love poured over her and she smiled as she let the cloak drop revealing her face; wet with tears.

"It is a strange thing, but I know you" whispered Frodo as he looked into her eyes. He reached up and with the back of his finger he gently brushed away one of her tears. "You feel as familiar to me as my own soul."

He gently took her into his arms and with all of his warmth he hugged her for a long while as they both softly sobbed to release the shock and horror. Soon it came to pass, that the evil slipped to the back of their emotions as the love dominated the forefront of their thoughts.

She absorbed him; breathed him in, in soft sweetness. His body was soft yet strong and firm; and her mind whirled at the feel of it.

He held her in tender adoration and marveled at the sweet smell of her aura. His mind flurried in celebration of her love and he was in awe that this wonderful blessing had come upon him. But the trauma of the night soon returned and the taste of pity crept back to his thought.

He then took her hand and he kissed her damaged finger, as he whispered through tears, "I am so sorry!"

Quickly she brushed his lips with her fingers and said "No, Frodo, it was not_ you!_" He looked at her sweet, teary eyes and was about to protest when she whispered, "I love you."

A smile crossed his face and his eyes kindled as the adrenaline overflowed in him. He drew close slowly as he inhaled her loveliness; then gently he laid his lips upon hers with softness deep and full, passing all his love and warmth to her.

It was the kiss of her dreams, coming true in full reality, lovely and beautiful; overwhelming her with ecstasy! He kissed her long and held her long into the night speaking no words, until they both became sleepy from relief and warmth. Reluctantly, as the early morning hours began to overcome the night, they left each other for their bunks and a sweet sleep full of love and a happiness that would last all of their remaining days.

The days past quickly and turned into weeks. Frodo and Meli spent all of their waking hours together; strolling along the deck, talking and answering questions, getting to know each other and laughing. There were moments spent just gazing into each others eyes and others just holding each other as they gazed into the greyness of the sea. They spent every evening under the stars discussing their future and with every word spoken, each wondered silently in their own thought; why was it taking so long to pass the straightway and when they finally did, would they find healing?

Their days on the ship had been mostly blessed, but the familiar pain from blade and sting and tooth never left them; and then one day the vile mania of the Ring crept back in to invade their bliss.

It was a beautiful morning as the birds fluttered about the bluest of skies and the sun burst above the horizon in orange brilliance. The elves gathered on deck before breakfast to bask in the blessings of this gifted sunrise; each one enduring the patience it took to pass.

However, Frodo woke feeling pale and anxious. He had no desire to crawl out of bed and a deep depression began stirring in his heart. His thoughts were of nothing but the Ring. How he longed to touch it again, to stroke the smooth gold and marvel at the shine. Slowly he slipped into a void where no reality could be felt and he was very far away. The Ring was once again in the palm of his hand yet to him it felt as though he were inside it; consumed by the taste of evil.

Bilbo awoke slowly as the sun slipped between the slates in the blind. Pangs of hunger began nagging him and it suddenly dawned on him that Frodo was not bustling about the cabin in preparation for the day as he usually did. He sat up curious and saw Frodo lying on his bunk, pale and quivering. He was stroking the white gem he had worn around his neck since the day he departed from Gondor. Slowly the old Hobbit slid from the bunk and approached him warily as though drawing near to evil. Softly he laid his hand on Frodo's bare shoulder; he was cold and clammy and the sheets were soaked in sweat.

"Frodo my lad, wake up. Wake up, dear Frodo." Bilbo softly cried, but the little Hobbit just lay there, unresponsive and stiff. Frodo could hear Bilbo, but it seemed answering him was unimportant.

Then, suddenly Bilbo understood as Frodo continued to stroke the jewel. The old Hobbit looked at it, tenderly lying in the palm of Frodo's hand. The delicate mithril shimmered in the morning sun and its crystal gleamed brightly in response to his touch. Yes, Bilbo understood as old memories flickered within his weary mind, and he knew it was best to leave Frodo alone.

He went on to breakfast comforted with the thought of the jewel. Frodo had told him, Lady Arwen had given it to him; a gift to bring him comfort, warmth and desire for life. He climbed the stairs in thought as he pondered the words to use to explain Frodo's absence to the elves. But when he stood before them, he found they already knew; for Galadriel had revealed that Meli was also in the same condition. The elves ate in silence, reflecting on the hurts of the world and they gave thanks in thought for the hope that now drew them beyond the horizon.

As the fit slowly passed and Frodo became more aware, his memory of Meli gave him strength to fight it; for he did not want her to suffer. So with all his effort, he finally succeeded and later that day they met again on the bow.

Grief smothered him as he laid eyes on her. "I'm so sorry" he began immediately, feeling shame.

But she stopped him with a gentle kiss and she told him, "No, Frodo it was not you" and as he protested, she stopped him again with yet another kiss. "It was not you, it was not you. Just hold me." So he held her long, and she held him as they passed sweet healing to each other late into the night.

The next morning, Meli awoke early feeling achy and still in some pain from the previous episode. The sun had not yet peeked over the horizon and the smell of rain clouds was thick in the air. She tended the horses spending a little time brushing and cooing them. Then she went to the bow hoping the clouds would let her welcome the sun. As she rounded the corner, she saw Frodo was standing there gazing into the greyness, lost in thought. He turned and smiled brightly as she snuggled up under his arm and cloak. Without words they held each other for a while and as time passed by, ever slowly the pain left them and at last they fell into a tender longing kiss that restored their joy. But before the kiss was over they smelled a sweet fragrance in the air and they heard the sound of singing. They turned to the west and looked out over the water. And it was there, they saw the grey rain-curtain turn all to silver glass and as it rolled back, they beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise. And Frodo smiled in remembrance of his dream long ago in the house of Bombadil.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**Tol Eressëa**

The ship slid slowly into the harbor off the Isle of Tol Eressëa. The sea all around them glistened in the early light in silver hues like glass prisms shimmering in morning rain. And the air about the ship was suspended with controlled anticipation.

All had freshened up and dressed in their best for the arrival. Gandalf stood bold in his best white robes that were bordered with golden plaits of a fine filament. Elrond softened some in regal burgundy and Adreal charmed in multi layered saffron, sheer as it billowed in the wind. Lady Galadriel gracefully arrived on deck in golden brown with exquisite embroidery which gently adorned her shoulders before it elegantly flowed down her cloak. She carried a golden harp and softly plucked its strings in a soothing flutter. Meli waited patiently near the stable doors in a lovely velvet dress, dark green with matching cloak. Her eyes glistened in her excitement and like a mirror they reflected her garment in emerald shimmers. Her dark hair was pulled back with tiny braids nestled in the soft curls; she was radiant with happiness and Frodo was astonished at her beauty. The little hobbit was dressed proper in his silver vest and soft overcoat. His elven cloak handsomely graced his shoulders and his eyes shone bright and blue as the skies above. Everyone gathered at the center deck, allured by the wondrous view. Bilbo stood next to Frodo, clean and proper in his brown suit with his hair combed soft in whiteness as it dusted his shoulders. He felt unusual vigor as he stood on his own, clapping his hands and smiling excitedly like a small child waiting for a toy. As they drew near to the isle they all gasped at the colors that reflected off the many-faceted rocks that reached up into vast mountains, majestically tall, then fell back down again with sheer drops reaching deep into the sea. There were many birds, also of many colors fluttering about the foamy waves that crashed into rock and shore. Obviously there was some kind of marine life in the shallows of the waters that delectably satisfied their appetite. The wonder of it all emerged from every breath as they viewed the land; a fair green, with rolling grasses and trees of many varieties; each one bursting with magnificent blossoms of every color imaginable. The ship drew ever closer revealing the many people standing at the boardwalk waiting to welcome them with a joyous murmur. Harps rang out in unison with lovely sopranos among dazzling banners that flapped in the breeze. Adrenaline flowed through Meli, as she began to recognize some of her people. Frodo was standing by her side with his arm around her waist. He could feel her tremble and he squeezed her tight with reaction to her contagious excitement. As soon as she saw her mother and father, the anticipation became exasperation at how slow the boat moved. But care had to be taken, for the rock was sharp and the passage narrow.

Finally after what seemed an eternity, it stopped and Frodo told her "Go on." She could not contain herself as she ran across the gate and into their arms. Geren in all his happiness began swinging her around and around while her Nane stood by and cried.

Frodo felt their happiness deeply as he watched and he marveled at the sight of _all _the Colters. "What a delightful blessing," he thought "to find others of my size in the west."

He stayed back with Bilbo for a few moments as they watched the others disembark from the ship into the arms of reunion. The two little hobbits laughed with great joy as they watched their friends indulge in the happiness. Gandalf was going around to many faces giggling, hugging, and shaking hands and bowing. Adreal had found the arms of her father, and her laughter could be heard above all, sweet and joyous as it mingled with the laughter of all the other elves and their kin. Bilbo squealed at the site of Elrond embracing his beloved Celebrian. The reverent Lord kissed his wife wildly, passionately in front of all as their love rejoiced in the sight of one another. And when she turned and saw her Mother, Galadriel, they saw many happy tears on both of the Ladie's faces.

It was a joyous morning, but alas it did not last for one; the happiness turned into bittersweet. Hidden among the joy was a broken heart, for it did not take long for Celebrian to realize her daughter Arwen was not among them. Elrond began to whisper words to her as she softly cried, "No, no." He tried his best to comfort his wife; he told her how radiant Arwen was in love and how the happiness had graced her like a spring sunrise. Again, he whispered words, a message to her from her daughter and she calmed a bit. But the shock and grief on her face was tragic.

Frodo felt the jewel on his neck now grow heavy and sad. Carefully he led Bilbo off the ship and took him to Gandalf's side. He then removed the jewel and approached Celebrian. She turned as he gently took her hand and ever so delicately he placed the jewel on her palm. Her eyes grew wide with disbelief as she recognized it.

Then Frodo bowed and said to her quietly, "My Lady, I am Frodo Baggins of the Shire. Arwen Undomiel was my friend. She gave this to me to help with my pain, now I give it to you for yours." His eyes glistened as he spoke with true heart. "Now and forever, the light of the Evenstar will shine in hopes that you will see and feel the happiness of her love. My Lady, she is with Elessar; a true and noble man."

A small smile slowly crossed Celebrian's lips as another tear slowly slid down her cheek. She knelt down to look into the little hobbit's eyes and he kissed her hand, once more bowing his head. She sighed and whispered, "This does not replace my daughter. For with this I cannot hold her warmth within my arms. Yet it gives me comfort to know of her happiness. Thank you, Frodo Baggins."

Immediately Tol Eressëa felt like home and all of the Ringbearers were to live there. Meli learned that her people had fallen in love with the beauty of the isle and were at home with the kindness of the Halladur that had built wondrous cities there. So they decided to settle in this land instead of going on to the mainland. This brought Meli great relief, for she had learned that mortals were not allowed entrance to the mainland unless summoned by Manwe' himself. She could not bear the thought of being torn between Frodo and her family.

The timidity of the Colters had not left them entirely and the trauma they had endured still haunted their dreams on occasion, though healing commenced with assurance of a bright and wondrous future. They chose a remote area on the southeast corner of the isle to build their new city. It was the personality of the rock, growth and the beaches that drew them to that particular area for it held them in a cozy labyrinth of security. They named their new home Coivinya for the promise it held for new life and they constructed it with care to comfortably welcome the Halladur with open arms. Such happiness had settled upon them that many children had been born that year and many more were to come after. And as they grew the need for greater governing became necessary, so they elected their first leader, choosing young but wise in a handsome lad named Galadir with his Lady Kalë ever in service by his side.

All of the Colter Elves were delighted with Frodo and made a huge fuss over their hero. He learned their ancient tongue in no time although they had learned the Common Tongue among the Halladur.

The young ones marveled at his feet for they had never seen so much fur on a person. One little girl squealed with delight as she described it to her friends, "It begins thin at the ankles, then thickens in curls, as it flows down over his toes; it is soft like a puppy's fur!" Then little giggles would erupt into song and they would follow him all around. Sometimes the little girls would touch him; unable to resist tickling his feet and then they would run all around in squeals and laughter.

Frodo was a good sport of course and Meli found it very amusing. He would jump as though they had startled him and then he would chase them around playfully growling until he caught one and proceeded to tickle her just as she had done to him.

Even the elders valued Frodo as if he was a Colter himself and he felt he was with family as he settled into a very respectable position. They called him 'Hero' and 'Brave One' and begged him to tell his story on several occasions. At first it was difficult and painful for him to tell. But the telling gave him healing with their respectful responses, so after a time or two he did not mind so much being asked. As time went on, he was able to go into more detail until finally he had told most of the tale; yet he always left out the very end, too ashamed to say it aloud. And he would apply all of their success, solely to Sam.

However, in privacy he found it in himself to discuss the full truth with Meli, for he knew that she felt his deepest shame. And with her efforts to comfort him, she found the words to rationalize things into reality. And in their discussions, it helped them both to understand; there was no way any creature in all of Arda could have withstood the power of the Ring. With that, gradually Frodo found his peace and forgave himself. His hurts faded in time and the pain lessened with each episode as an old memory often fades.

But the spell was not broken for a long time and in the beginning it was difficult for him to deal with. Although he fought it, knowing it was affecting Meli; Frodo was still tormented at the fact that she continued to feel his pain and discomforts. It was a frustrating circle; he would feel pain, so she would feel pain, and so he would feel more pain, because she felt more pain…it was never ending. He was only mortal after all and although this land brought contentedness, he was still prone to moods, aches and pains. It was barely two months since they had arrived and Frodo was having doubts that he was any good for Meli. And the worst of it was that he could do nothing about it. His mind dwelled on the fact that she was an immortal cast into mortality by evil.

Yes, it was his impending death that bothered him the most. Not for himself, but for her. For her, he was anxious for _complete_ healing and as he consulted with Gandalf, the wizard was kind and compassionate; yet he insisted Frodo must be patient with the Valar. And there was one more thing that was bothering Frodo. He cautiously consulted with Gandalf, unsure of how to say it.

"Gandalf…I…I need to ask you something. You know how I feel about Meli. She is so…well…I am drawn to her unlike any other." Frodo blushed, still unsure of how to say what was on his mind. Gandalf looked at Frodo amused at the understatement and knew where this conversation was going. Frodo was obviously uncomfortable; his brows grew forlorn and his breath became frustrated. Gandalf waited, silent and patient, until finally the little hobbit just blurted it out. "What if we were to have children? How can she manage the pain, the spells; if she is with child or worse yet while tending a baby?"

Gandalf put his hand on Frodo's forearm and bent down to answer him eye to eye. The little hobbit relaxed a little with the amused grin on the old wizard's face. "Frodo my lad, do you think Linanna and Geren would be far away if she was with child? I will also be around from time to time. Do not worry, my friend, we must be patient with the Valar. You will not be abandoned."

Now it wasn't only Frodo that had approached Gandalf on Meli's behalf. Both Geren and Linanna had pleaded with the wizard to 'do something!' Neither one could bear the thought of losing their daughter again. They had spent far too much time grieving and worrying about her. This gave Frodo even more to deal with within. Thus the circle was never ending.

Now of course Meli knew, for she felt Frodo's frustration and it worried her. They were walking the beach one night after a quiet dinner with her parents. The moon was bright and the sky seeped deep blue creating a serene shimmering across the water. It gave her a mood of romance, but she could feel he was far away in sadness. Holding her hand, he caressed her damaged finger, seemingly lost in thought. Many, many times he had kissed it, hoping to ease the pain somehow.

She stopped and searched his eyes seeking the way into them as she spoke, "What bothers you, Frodo? I can feel you are in pain." He stopped in his tracks with the reminder that she felt his worst feelings. With a sigh, he looked at her sadly then tenderly once again, kissed her finger. He knew it was no use hiding his feelings. Here she was, standing before him and wearing them as thickly as he felt them. It all began to come out; he spoke with soft murmurs as he honestly told her the reasons for his feelings.

She listened patiently until he finished, then said, "Oh my dear Frodo…" but before she could speak another word of protest he interrupted her and said sternly, "Show me your scar."

"What?" she asked, as a small laugh escaped her lips. She was unsure of what he had meant, or maybe a little embarrassed at what she _thought _he had meant.

He tenderly touched her shoulder, feeling the scar beneath her dress, and then slowly he pulled the cloth away revealing her bare skin. Her hand quickly went up to her breast, to hold the dress from falling further. The scar was white in the moonlight as he gently brushed over it with his finger tips. It was identical to his. Great sadness filled his eyes as the reality hit him; this was where it had all begun and he became overwhelmed with the fact that she bore all of his physical wounds.

Meli began to tremble as the feel of his touch moved her and his sadness shuddered within her. He leaned down and brushed his lips over the scar, in hopes to heal her by kissing away the evil that had invaded her. She slightly gasped as she felt the pain whirl from within as though it were dissolving, then it settled back down embedded in its place; once more nagging and aching, though somewhat lighter. Their eyes met; Meli blushed and turned her head as Frodo sighed and delicately placed her dress back over her shoulder. His feelings were undeniably regretful of all that had happened to her.

"Oh Frodo" she whispered as a single tear embraced her cheek. For her own feelings, she was immensely happy. She sought the words to express this, "It matters not to me that I would die with you. If possible, that is what I would choose. It is all a gift." She smiled sincerely with her tears glistening in the moonlight as she continued, "I know _when_ to comfort you, my love. I am in touch with _how_ to make you happy. I know all that you have been through and understand your feelings. I will lie down with you when life becomes too weary; holding you in peaceful slumbers to the ends of the world. For many years, my dream came to me; revealing the very moment you would first kiss me. I knew that moment would bring a lifelong happiness. But I never imagined it would be as beautiful as it was, and is; _every_ time you kiss me."

Her words moved him; he kissed her sweetly and it helped to calm them both. He held her close and caressed her face with more tender kisses. Desire slipped in, replacing the sadness. Finally, the mood lightened as once again, her love served to guide him ever closer to healing and they continued their walk, basking in the sweet happiness of their love.

Now, little did they all know of the effort Gandalf had put forth for Frodo and Meli's behalf. Many hours of council he had taken in meditation with Manwë, the highest of the Valar. He discussed the sacrifices all had made and asked if anything could be done. But in spite of all the pain, it was realized by all and especially Frodo and Meli, that the gifts they had already received were glorious. And thankful they all were, singing the love and praises to Ilúvatar in their own thoughts. Now Manwë and his dear spouse Varda were soft at heart for the little ones and heard the beautiful words that were sung. They put forth their own songs to Ilúvatar asking for their peace. And as it was answered, the Valar comprehended that in time love would complete the healing. Long life would be granted for Frodo in the fashion of the Númenóreans; for his feat was immense and his heart golden in the eyes of his creator. And for her part Meli would retain her immortality for the sake of their children, who would be free to choose for themselves. But for now to all, these gifts would be unknown and they would find comfort in the healing from their love.

They were married in Avallónë six months to the day after arriving. Meli wore a pale white dress with delicate lace overlay made with the finest mithril. She had streams of tiny white flowers gently lying among her curls as a veil. They caressed her face as her deep brown eyes glistened in her smiles. Frodo stood proud in a deep blue vest with a black velvet overcoat and _his _eyes glistened in the same blue hue. He was so overcome with her beauty as she approached him, a tear of happiness escaped down his cheek. He had a smile so sweet, that Meli's heart neared melting.

The ceremony itself was simple with words from the heart of a Maia, Gandalf the White. They spoke their vows in soft sighs as their hands held tight and Gandalf pronounced them with fond words. Then Frodo kissed his Melanna; his 'loves gift', for the first time in the light of other eyes as everyone stood laughing and applauding for their happiness.

They had a joyous celebration with much song, dance and feasting. The couple laughed and cried with each hug from family and friends. Frodo stood at one point and silenced the guests. He then proceeded with a beautiful poem to Meli to which she answered with a lovely song each written by their own hearts. Then they danced to the gentle strokes of tiny harps as they held each other close, in sweet caresses of each other's cheeks. They softly whispered their love to one another as their friends and family looked on with smiles and awes.

At the end of the celebration, her father took them aside. He looked at Frodo with sincere eyes and said, "You know, how dear my daughter is to me..."

Frodo suspected he was going to go on about taking good care of Meli, and providing for her well. He interrupted his new father, saying, "Yes sir, I will…" but Geren stopped him.

"Please let me finish." He laughed. "Dear Frodo, we have prepared a gift for you and our sweet Meli. Come with me."

As he led them out to the road, everyone followed as petals of white flowers fell around them and there they saw a wagon, covered in silver tapestries with burgundy garland strung end to end. Gandalf was at the reigns waiting patiently and Nessa had been hitched to the front of it; her mane braided and graced with the same burgundy flowers and silver strands of mithril interwoven between the plaits. They boarded with curiosity whirling in their minds and they rode west along the shore for a short while. When the wagon slowed for a curve, Meli leaned over to look out but Geren blocked her view, telling her to be patient and wait.

She laughed with excitement and looked over at Frodo, who was absorbing the thick anxiety in his big blue eyes. He took her hand and squeezed it. They rode on for what seemed an eternity but really only a short time when finally the wagon stopped. Geren was the first to step down and turned to take Meli's hand. "Close your eyes, both of you." He said as he clumsily helped them down. "Alright now open." They could not believe their eyes.

Directly in front of them was a large hill that rose up gradually and eventually it curved around towards the west. It blended into a mountain range that stretched far inland, turning to deep blue as it loomed high into the sky. And intricately carved into the bottom of the hill were three sides of the most elegant hobbit hole Frodo had ever seen. "Welcome home.", said Geren softly as they stood gaping, a look of wonder on their faces. A mixture of the Shire and Imladris in design, it was the most beautiful gift they could ever have received!

The doorway was round though larger than normal, painted burgundy red and it had small port windows to each side glowing in candlelight through golden stained glass. The wood of the door was elegantly carved with flowers and Elvish Runes that said, **_'Mar Aman'_** **_Blessed Home. _**The roof was earth, covered in thick grass and a huge tree grew near the front; it reached far with long shady branches covering part of the house and a large portion of the yard. There were two benches to each side of the door and very many flower bushes all in full bloom here and there on a large grassy lawn. Looking north from the front, there was a fair view of the mountain, its blue peaks looming high to the left. And if you looked to the right, down a grassy hill, the white beach stretched eastward landing upon the sight of Coivinya, shimmering in new splendor.

They stood in awe looking at the house as the sun had just reached the tip of the horizon behind and was shimmering upon the water across the ocean. It drew their gaze and curiosity pulled them that way first. As they walked around the hill, they discovered the back of the house jutted out with balconies on three levels that overlooked a small bay arching to the right. The view was serene with the luminous ocean carrying the western surf gently into shore.

Meli sighed at the sight and then turned to look at the house. There were steps off each balcony spiraling their way around a tall thick tree. The intricate elven design reminded them of Lothlorien flavors. But the tree was something of which was unique only to the island. It had thick flat branches and leaves that spread into the shape of a fan. Tiny fuzzy threads sprung here and there along the slender green leaves as though they were unraveling. And the scalloped bark of the trunk reminded them of the sweet new fruit they had come to love there on the island.

They walked hand in hand back to the front sighing with happiness. Frodo stopped to pick a flower as Meli continued to walk towards the front. She turned once more to look at the house just as Frodo began approaching her with his fist clenched lightly holding the tiny little flower out to her. Suddenly this angle brought memory to Meli and her vision from the first night on the ship came back to her in full. The sun had begun to gently slip below the horizon and she saw children playing in the yard with Gandalf and Bilbo. She started laughing and almost crying at the same time! She shrieked with joy and grabbed Frodo's hands as she began dancing around the lawn. Finally they fell down upon the grass overcome with the giggles. Frodo didn't have a clue what she was laughing at, but he enjoyed her fun without question; he thought it was just simple happiness for this magnificent day.

Thoroughly amused, Geren pulled them up and said, "Come on, come inside and see!"

They went inside and found Linanna was there and had already started a fire and lit the lanterns giving the home a golden glow. It smelled sweet with the scent of daffodils and it was warm with coziness. There were two bedrooms and two great rooms under the high ceilings of the first floor; one great room was located in the back for cooking and dining, and the other one was just off the front entrance for relaxing and enjoying life. The hearth in the front room was grand; it was made of huge multi-colored rock and it was topped with a wide mantle of golden wood. Rugs, sofas, chairs, and pillows filled the room, with comfort laden materials, soft and colorful. Food and wine was laid out on a small table with a bouquet of blue and pink flowers.

Meli and Frodo felt giddy with excitement and they were anxious to see the rest. Geren and Linanna led them around, room to room explaining how Gandalf had described the hobbit ways of life as the Colters applied their talents. The newlyweds gasped anew with each room and found the home to be a great hall of which many could live both tall and small. Finally they ended up back at the front door. Frodo and Meli began to express as best as they could the thanks and happiness they felt. But they could not finish, for suddenly Geren and Linanna bestowed upon them hugs and kisses, and were gone out the door before they could blink. With the click of the latch, suddenly it became silent.

Frodo stepped over to the window and watched for a few moments until he saw Gandalf gingerly lead them away in the wagon. Just as they faded from view, he turned to look at Meli but she was gone.

"Meli," he called, but she did not answer.

He walked from room to room, but she was not there. All was silent about the house. Then suddenly a mischievous smiled crossed his lips and at once he clambered up the stairs as his adrenalin began to simmer with anticipation. He entered the room and there she stood in a lovely yellow robe, her hair pulled all to one side in an elegant plait, interwoven with soft ribbon. Their eyes fixed on one another.

A sweet smile fell upon Frodo's lips and he softly exclaimed, "I love you!"

The candlelight flickered lazily as the shadow of the canopy danced on the walls. The fire in the bedroom hearth blazed in readiness to compete with the passion.

He approached her as she softly whispered in reply, "And I love you!"

Softly he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand; his eyes never leaving her beauty. Then gently they plunged into oneness with trembling kisses, as the passion of their wedded bliss began.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

**The Mithril Wonder**

Time passed by, far too quickly as it often happens in happy times. Frodo and Meli suffered several more bouts of pain and anxiety, but its severity was weakening as healing commenced and it all was veiled by their blissful obsession with each other. It was one year later. They fell into daily routines with chores, gardening, and of course, swimming. Well, mostly Meli did the swimming as Frodo sunbathed on the beach occasionally taking a swim, but the vigor of the waves was too new to him and he preferred to pass the time lounging in the sun as he did a bit of writing. Whom or what purpose this writing was for, he did not know, but it gave him deeper understanding of himself to write it all out once again. And with each word that he wrote of his traumatic quest, he felt a little bit more at peace as though all the pain was slowly being released from the bounds of his soul and drifting away like a whiff of smoke upon the wind.

Living with Bilbo again had also brought him joy. His love for the old hobbit kept him keen to every need in these remaining days of his cousin's life. However, that extra vigor he enjoyed on the boat was twofold here; he was able to enjoy long walks upon the beach and he also spent some time writing although it was more on the poetic side of literary pleasure. And he would sit by the fireside at night to read the day's creation with such emotion in each and every word, that it lingered until dreams took all thoughts to adventurous places.

They all kept very busy in other ways too and had worked hard in this first year. Frodo and Meli built a barn for the horses with the help of Geren and Gandalf and then a deck on the beach to provide an enjoyable place to entertain friends. It had a huge pit in one corner that would hold a fire big enough to feed a crowd. Many lounging chairs were scattered about the platform with little square tables here and there. And along the rail going all the way around it, they planted a lovely vine that sprouted little pink flowers. It was such a pleasant place to be, that they prepared and enjoyed at least one meal a day out there.

Their favorite part of the day was early morning and they spent it riding Nessa; exploring the island and absorbing the beauty of it. One day as they roamed the mountainside, they found a fresh-water pool to the side of a small river that flowed down into the ocean. It was only thirty minutes from the house by horseback and it came to their attention with the booming sound of a waterfall. As they rode through the thickets the waterfall was first to come into view. Its fierce roar splashed down in demanding froth as the water below answered in obeying ripples that spread over a vast pool; it shimmered like a mirror in the early morning sun.

Meli was so excited, she laughingly jumped down from Nessa and began taking off her dress to swim in her underclothes. Frodo's eyes grew wide and he looked around quickly to make sure no one else was around to see.

"No Meli, you do not know if it is safe!" he called in alarm. However he had underestimated her passion for the water.

"I will be careful, Frodo, I promise!" She called as she carefully waded in to check the depth and rock locations. His anxiety pulled at her, but it was not too fierce, so she proceeded with an appeasing need and she could not help herself. Satisfied that it was safe, suddenly she lunged into the water and began to swim around.

"Frodo come on!" she called urging him to join her. "Come meleth nîn! It is wonderful!"

He was clearly nervous about the wild falls and the harsh rock and at first refused, but Meli continued coaxing with sweet pleading words. He watched her for a moment as she glided over to the far side of the pool where the blue water mellowed some like a bowl of liquid crystal gently dancing from the falls. It did look inviting for the day was quite warm -and this vision of her wet and deliriously happy was too much to pass up, so finally he relented. Nervously he again looked around to ensure their privacy. Meli giggled at his modesty of which she could feel tickle her emotions. Slowly Frodo began striping down to his underwear, stating clearly to Nessa that he dreaded the whole affair. The horse shook her head and stepped over to the water to take a drink.

Frodo sighed and rolled his eyes, "Yes, I should have known you would be on _her_ side."

Little by little he waded in shivering from the cold water and within minutes he was up to his chin splashing around. Before he had come to the island, Frodo had not been swimming since he was a child at Brandy Hall. Memories of swimming in the Brandywine with his cousins brought joy to him and now, every time he had been swimming with Meli, he felt like a child again. He began chasing her all over the pool with a devilish look about him. She squealed and swam away, knowing that if he caught her, she was in for it. It brought her such joy to see the delight in his eyes. She played and teased until eventually she let him catch her so she could enjoy his tickles and kisses. After a while, winded from the play, Frodo settled himself upon a shallow rock to rest and watch her swim.

Though Meli was also weary from Frodo's exertion, her complete delight that they had found this pool kept her going. She continued to swim around, drawing giggles from him as she showed off her graceful abilities in a silly manner. After a while, he leaned back against the rock and happily closed his eyes to soak up the sun.

Suddenly a curious feeling tugged at Meli. The depths seemed to call to her and the reflex to investigate was like an irresistible need. She dove under and began to explore the beauty of this underwater paradise.

Frodo knew her swimming abilities and was not worried about her in the least. The water felt good, like a refreshing breath and the shallows he sat in were perfectly tempered to lull him into drowsiness. He lounged for a while listening to the music of the falls and the gentle chirping of the birds that fluttered about them. Yet his awareness of Meli's movements also occupied his mind and suddenly he became aware that far too much time had passed since she had surfaced. He scanned the water for a moment or two and then he sat up and called her name many times. But she did not come back up. He leaned back against the rock again with thoughts that she was skillful and knew what she was doing. However, as more time passed and she did not surface, he began to get nervous. He knew well that his own swimming skills were far too lacking to rescue anyone. For his love however, he would do anything, so he held his breath and dove under the water, searching for her frantically. He was a clumsy swimmer and he only made it halfway down, then he quickly had to come back up for air. He dove under again and again and even tried swimming around to look for her, but she was not to be seen. Many minutes had now passed and he began to feel panic.

"What do I do!" his thoughts cried. Then suddenly there she was, across the pool near the falls. Great relief flowed over him as she swam to him, but by the time she reached him he had become so angry he began to scold her.

Meli felt his fear and anger immensely. She had dove under and found a small passageway that had drawn her with great curiosity. It wasn't until she had passed through it that she had felt Frodo's anxiety reach its peak. Quickly she swam back, but it took a few moments to return.

She drew close to him and through kisses cried, "I am so sorry, I am so sorry!" Then with excitement she cried, "Frodo, you must come see this!"

She began to pull him over to the falls but he pulled back, still angry and called, "No! What is it?"

Her persistence was uncontrollable as she continued to assure him that it was alright. Once again, she kissed him sweetly and calmed him with more apologies, impatiently insisting he must come to see! He had never seen her so insistent and it distracted him from his anger. She managed to coax him into holding his breath and she pulled him to the looming falls and then under the water. Suddenly his fear seared through her emotions and it startled her. But they were halfway there so she continued on, sure that once he saw what she wanted to show him, he would be alright. Pulling him by the hand they dove under a rock opening, about three feet under and they came out into a cavern behind the falls.

Frodo gasped loudly as he came up; coughing and wide eyed, he collapsed upon the rock. But as he gathered his breath, he looked up and around. Suddenly his fear dissolved into astonishment; there was a pool on the other side of the falling water and massive rock. It was crystal blue and it gently lapped the grey rock that gradually sloped up into a fairly large cave. The middle of the cave was well lit, for there was an opening in the roof above that let the sunlight shine in with a great beam of golden light. Where the light hit the ground, there was an area where dirt had fallen over time. With the moisture and sunlight a thick grassy moss grew with bushes of flowers and other green plants creating a brilliant oasis. And the air in the cave smelled like the aftereffect of a hard summer rain, clean and fresh. Frodo's mouth fell open with wonder.

They climbed out of the water gaping at the glimmering vision. Slowly they approached the green growth and found that around the back of it, the cave went deeper about twenty feet or so. As they walked around and the light fell behind them, they could see the walls of the cave were marbled in shimmering mithril! The floor was hard rock, greenish blue and smooth like it had been polished somehow. The beauty of the place took their breath away and they stood in awe for a long while, unable to believe their eyes!

"Frodo!" gasped Meli. Frodo was speechless. He took her hand and pulled her down to the grass where they sat for awhile in serene peace as they basked in these sweet gifts that had been bestowed upon them.

After a while, as though a sweet spell had graced their hearts, they felt a contentedness that neither one had ever felt in all of their days.

Yet one nagging thought was still mingling in Meli's mind and she could not resist to softly question, "Frodo, why did you suddenly feel such fear as we swam under the rock?"

Frodo became embarrassed that his fear was felt by Meli. He sighed heavily, frustrated at the spell. "It is nothing. Just ignore it."

Meli fell quiet as a lump began to form in her throat. She mentally scolded herself for breaking the sweetness of the moment and invading his privacy. "It has been invaded enough with this wretched spell," she cursed herself in thought.

Suddenly Frodo's emotion changed to shame for snapping at her the way he did. He looked at her and saw the tears in her eyes and quickly drew her into his arms.

"I am sorry," he said. "I am so sorry." He drew a deep breath as though he had a tremendous load to release and continued, "It was the deepness of the opening in the rock and the claustrophobic feeling it gave me. It suddenly brought memory of my parents drowning and I panicked."

Meli's eyes grew mournful. Bilbo had told her long ago how Frodo's parents had died when he was very young. It broke her heart to think that he had suffered so much pain at such a young age. She had wondered about it from time to time, but did not want to bring it up for fear it would bring him pain to talk about it. However, now without meaning to, she had done just that.

Frodo continued, "It was a boating accident. I was very young, yet I remember it well. We were on holiday at Brandy Hall, if you would call it that." Frodo let out a small laugh, "We stayed there quite often, for my father was very fond of the food there and my mother could never stay away too long. You see, she was very close to her family, but most of all she loved the river. It drew her much the same way it does you although she did not have your skill in swimming. She took me swimming many times in the summer, when the river was not so high upon the banks. I remember it like it was yesterday –she was always dressed in blue, with her hair tied high on her head. She was so lovely. There she would be lounging in an old wooden chair with her feet propped up on the box we used to carry our lunch and snacks in. All my cousins would be there. We played so hard, that by the end of the afternoon I would fall asleep on an old blanket as she sang little rhymes. It was such fun."

Meli, who was wrapped in his arms, smiled and squeezed his forearm with thoughts of the fun he must have had. The little hobbit smiled as he continued, "My father would come down from time to time to watch us play too...or maybe just to dip into that box. His first love was food but that did not matter to my mother, because she knew he loved her. They were an affectionate couple and one could see their love was very strong. He used to romance her with candlelight dinners, slow walks and many gifts." Frodo slightly blushed, "I was listening to them talking that night as I lay in my bed. I was supposed to be asleep, but I could not help myself. I guess I was at that curious age…uh, you know…about love and all." Frodo smiled at Meli as he thought about their, own love and continued on. "Father told her that he wanted to take her out onto the river in a small boat to be alone. He said he wanted to smother her with kisses and bask in the moonlight. He knew she loved the water and he wanted to please her."

Frodo grew silent for a moment in thought. Then, his face grew sorrowfully sad as he continued, "The next thing I remember, my grandmother was shaking me awake in the early hours of the morning. She had tears all over her face and she kept mumbling that they were gone; taken by the cruel waters of the Brandywine. I did not quite understand at first, I had never lost anyone before. And when I asked many questions, no one wanted to speak of it. They treated me like a small child and told me not to worry, that they would take care of me. Then one night, I heard them talking. It was my Uncles and my Grandfather; they were out on the porch and, again, I was supposed to be in bed. They spoke very plainly about the condition of the bodies and what drowning does to them." A tear slid down Frodo's cheek, followed by a sigh. Meli laid her cheek on his arm as she choked back her own tears. Frodo swallowed and continued, "No one ever really found out what had happened. The boat seemed intact although it had a small gouge out of the top rail. I assumed that they may have hit some rock somewhere and fell in. The rumors were so cruel, so cruel."

Meli squeezed Frodo's forearm once more, as she wiped a tear from his cheek. "I am so sorry meleth nîn. I did not know."

Frodo blinked away the tears and squeezed her warmly in return. "It is alright my Melanna. Just promise me you will always respect the water, no matter how confident you feel."

He then began to kiss her softly and in between the first few kisses, Meli whispered, "I will my love, I will."

They never spoke of the cave to anyone and for most of their lives they used it as a place to come for play or for private long talks and tranquility; a place to reflect on the blessings of their lives. And on this day, on this first visit, Meli broke the news to Frodo that she was with child. The little hobbit had never imagined that life could be any better than it had been since he had met her; but now it seemed complete. Little did he know how much more fulfilling it was to become.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24 **

**The Mourning Song**

It was quite early on a warm morning, the sun still a few hours from rising. Frodo woke with a start and realized Meli was sitting up in bed. A slight breeze was billowing in through the opened balcony doorway of their second story bedroom. The light of the moon shimmered through the window lace and danced on the walls; it reminded him of the mithril at their cave. It had been only two months since he found out that she was carrying his child and although she wasn't showing yet, his excitement made him keen to her wants and needs. She was breathing heavily and he became alarmed.

"What is it?" He asked.

Her eyes were wide, they shimmered in the moonlight, and she turned to him and whispered, "I have received a summons from Nienna."

"A summons? What do you mean?" Frodo asked lighting the lantern next to the bed and in the process, he almost knocked it over.

Meli got out of the bed and wrapped a thick robe around her shivering body. "She called to me, in a dream. She has summoned me to the Halls of Mandos."

"The Halls of Mandos!" cried Frodo in alarm as he stumbled out of the bed. "Why, whatever for?"

Meli took his hand and attempted to calm him, but his alarm was unwavering. Frodo knew of that place from tales of long ago as Gandalf had explained what happened to the elves when they were slain. For a mortal, the thought of death is frightening and Frodo was no exception even with all he had been through. For Meli, however, it is a peaceful and serene place where the elves sleep in passive song, a place where consolation and absolution can be found. It was not 'where' she was being summoned that shook _her_ soul; she too was wondering 'why'.

She felt the fear in Frodo's eyes as his alarm amplified her feelings and she realized she would need help. "Come, let us wake Gandalf," she whispered breathlessly.

They had set up a room for Gandalf on the ground floor next to Bilbo's although he didn't stay permanently. He was so accustomed to traveling around Middle Earth that it continued here as well. He had become a regular guest in many households, he visited folk on Tol Eressëa and then he commenced onto the mainland to visit some there. However, to the delight of all he mostly stayed at Frodo and Meli's and with time it became more and more his preferred home. They also invited Geren and Linanna to move in on the third floor, to be near for the baby.

Meli was overjoyed with family under one roof, and this made Frodo content as well. His relationship with his mother in-law was that of adoration on each other's part, and with his father in-law it was that of respect, though Frodo was a bit shy around the elder elf. From time to time he felt the scrutiny that Geren had for him but he understood his intentions as he saw the way Geren looked at his daughter. Frodo also felt that she was precious and deserved much better than he could ever offer.

The little hobbit softly knocked on Gandalf's door being careful not to wake Bilbo who could be heard snoring in the next room. Gandalf, a light sleeper, woke easily and growled, "Who is it?"

Frodo looked at Meli and sighed. "It is me, Gandalf, and Meli. May we speak to you?"

"Yes, yes come in" he said, a little annoyed, but with curiosity in his voice.

Gandalf sat up on the edge of the bed as Meli calmly revealed her dream to him. Frodo could not stand still, he fidgeted and paced, revealing his distraught.

The old wizard held a look of indifference as she spoke and when she finished he said, "Well, there is nothing to do, but go. You cannot refuse Nienna, it would be most unwise."

Frodo looked frustrated. His instinct to protect Meli boomed strongly through his words, "I must go with her! She cannot go alone!"

Gandalf shook his head, "No, my dear Frodo. You know you can not go to the mainland without the grace of the Valar." Then, in response to Frodo's fluster, he said, "I shall go in your stead and lend my support."

Meli smiled in relief, but it was short lived, for Frodo's frustration continued to simmer within her; covering her with his blanket of emotion. For he knew Gandalf was right and there was nothing he could say or do.

Gandalf smiled in hopes to comfort his little friends, and then he said, "Well, there will be no more sleep for me this night I can see. Come, lets make some tea and work out the details."

They gathered round the table in the kitchen and spoke of their plans until the sun began its laborious crawl over the mountain peak. Geren and Linanna woke early to the sounds of their gentle whispers and joined them. They both took it fairly well, the only one feeling distraught about it all still being Frodo who could not understand what it was she was going for anyway.

Once more Gandalf tried to explain it to him. "My dear Frodo, the Halls are not only a place for sleep but also a place where a spirit can find healing and if so chooses, comfort in repenting for any wrong-doing they may have done during their lives. After a time, if the Valar deems it, they can be re-embodied to leave the Halls and return to their kin in Aman."

Frodo shook his head, still clearly frustrated. "But Gandalf, what does that have to do with Meli?" He cried.

Gandalf's patience held as he sighed and after a moment of thought, he finally answered, "Well, Frodo, perhaps she needs to clear up some old business, something from her past. One of the elves that have passed into the Halls may need her testimony to gain forgiveness of the Valar. Or perhaps _her_ forgiveness is needed to free the spirit of a troubled one."

Geren and Linanna looked at each other, knowing, but they were unable to say a word.

Gandalf turned to Meli, "Do you know, my dear?"

Meli's face flushed. She had suspected all along, but had never allowed her self to think it through, much less never voiced her suspicions aloud. Now she was to come face to face with it and she was put on the spot. She hesitated as everyone looked at her waiting.

Frodo's emotions now erupted with impatience and he could not hold back. "Meli!" He cried softly, his voice breaking.

Meli sighed and looked at each one of them, eye to eye and finally said, "I think perhaps it would be best if I don't say for now. If I am wrong, I do not want to bring unnecessary grief to anyone. You must understand Frodo, I can not say as yet." She took his hand and squeezed it saying, "Do not worry about me Meleth Nîn. I will be fine. Now if you will excuse me, I will go prepare."

With that, she left the room and headed up the stairs. Her heart felt heavy as Frodo's hurt burdened it and all the way up, she was thinking, "What more must he have to go through?"

Linanna was unable to bear this sight and quickly busied herself by clearing away the dishes; she was struggling to hide the tears that threatened to fall. Geren said something inaudible and then headed out of the door for a long walk. Both of them wanted badly to go upstairs and speak to their daughter about it all. But both of them were bound to the unspoken laws of silence.

Meli left with Gandalf later that day. Her farewell with Frodo was spoken with assurance that she would be fine. Although he felt anxiety, he questioned her no more. He held her long and rubbed her tummy saying, "Take care my Melanna and come back to me. Come back soon!"

The white wizard and the little Colter elf rode by wagon, northwest to Tavrobel where they took ship. The ride had been rough on the rocky roadways, but the water was worse, choppy and swaying; and the boat seemed to take forever. Meli was feeling a bit woozy from this which was very unusual for an elf. However, mingled with the pregnancy, her emotions as well as Frodo's and anticipation of this journey; she grew pale and nauseous.

Gandalf noticed and insisted she sit down below, out of the wind. He poured her a cup of tea from the Captains pot and placed a blanket around her shoulders. He rubbed her back as he teased, "Dear Meli, now I thought elves never felt sick."

She smiled, and teased back, "Only on choppy waters, pregnant and with a grumpy ol' wizard by their side!" With that, he laughed full and deep and as he hugged her, he made her spill her tea.

The trip on the water passed quickly although docking was very tricky. Finally, stable land met their feet and they proceeded to the city of Valmar where they were to dwell during their time in Aman. Traveling was effortless and time seemed of no matter in this land. The beauty of it was overwhelming to Meli. The sight of Taniquetil looming high above them, its white peak a whiteness brighter than that she had ever seen, left her a feeling of serenity as if Manwë and Varda smiled at her and the eyes of Ilúvatar looked down upon her.

This comfort held her for many days, if 'days' were what they were called in this land of timeless serenity. They awaited the command to proceed. Finally the beckon came just as they thought it never would.

As they arrived at the Halls of Mandos, Gandalf only entered a short way and apologetically told her he could go no further, for the summons was hers only. The peaceful aura that surrounded her gave her ease and proceeding was without effort as the deeper she went, the song of Nienna, could be heard and it grew in thickness of golden light. The sorrowful Valar sang long and mournfully, yet wordlessly of all the ill that had befallen the Colters in their captivity. Intense grief filled the air as the song wove the details through which blood had been spilt and finally it was revealed why this little Colter elf had been summoned.

It was as Meli had thought; the fall of Carasdolen and the enslavement of her people, all wrought from his carelessness. Suddenly he appeared before her; Giliath, bold and strong as if he were whole again; the ghastly wound he had bore was completely gone. Tears streamed down his cheeks, his head was bowed and he approached her.

"You may not touch her." Nienna warned him in thought.

He held back with aching on his face as he longed to take her into his arms, to touch her with remorseful apologies and hold her warmly in his love. Meli's legs wavered as her peace left her and her emotions swelled. Yet she stood firm by what power she did not know; for it was not within herself.

Nienna's song flowed forth with Giliath's repentance and it was revealed to Meli that he wished her forgiveness.

"Forgiveness should not come from me!" Meli found herself speaking humbly as if she could not withhold her deepest feelings. "It was our people, much more than I that suffered intensely from your actions. I can not help but feel it was partly my…my fault." A sob erupted from her throat as she continued to reveal this deep embedded shame that she had tucked away so long ago. "If I had not been so afraid…I mean…I know you did not do it intentionally."

Giliath shook his head in disagreement with her assumption of fault. His arms reached out to her, but he stood firm.

The golden light grew brighter and Nienna's wordless song grew fairer, explaining that forgiveness had already been granted by her people, long ago upon their arrival in Aman. The song continued with weeping, "Your part in this is no matter, for this is not your day of reckoning. Speak now, the final word -for absolution will be complete and Giliath's life restored; or sleep will devour him forever more."

Meli sighed deeply, relief flowing through her body. "Then I forgive you! Please forgive me!" She cried.

All angst fell from Giliath's face and now his eyes became alighted with happiness that erupted through his tears. Suddenly Meli realized he still loved her and now he wanted her for his own. She stepped back in fear as he began again to approach her. Her love for Frodo screamed within her thought, yet the fear she felt was threatening as though her heart also pulled her to Giliath.

She looked all around in a panic and called to Nienna, "Did you not tell him!"

Giliath stopped with these words and his eyes grew suddenly sorrowful; suddenly he knew. He whispered hoarsely, "You are with child. Your love is with another."

"Yes." She said softly.

The look on his face was that which Meli would never forget, for the hurt was deep and piercing. Slowly he faded and he was gone.

Languidly Meli retreated from the Halls, her hands grasping the walls as shock whirled in her mind. And when she saw Gandalf, she collapsed into his arms, sobbing. Nienna's crying song could be heard far off in the distance as it swirled in mourning. Giliath no longer desired life; not without Melanna. And by his will, he would sleep forever more.

Gandalf did all he could to console her. "It is as it was meant to be, Melanna. Do not take blame your self for the fate of Giliath. For his decisions are his own. Your path lies with Frodo, as his melanna; his gift of love."

Great relief came over Frodo as he saw his Melanna sail into the harbor with the evening sun behind her. He had traveled to Tavrobel and watched the sunset for many a day; waiting anxiously for her return. Almost an entire month had passed which to him seemed an eternity. Now, she was back in his arms and they sat alone in a garden of roses to pass the remainder of the evening. Gandalf had muttered something about tending the horses and had left them alone. Of course Frodo wanted to know right away what the summons was all about. And now, Meli spoke of it, in full detail.

"It was a young elf that caused the demise of Carasdolen and capture of my people long ago." She bowed her head in sorrowful shame as she continued, "And it was I that brought him to do the thing that he did."

"What? How?" cried Frodo as he wrapped his arms around her.

"His name was Giliath, a strong elf; young and gifted with the bow. His future among our people was promising and he held our respect for the bounty he abundantly provided us." Meli blushed and looked away as she said, "Yet he had his faults; he was overly confident and he desired me."

Frodo's eyes grew wide and he gently squeezed her in silence, allowing her to continue.

"I was just a frightened child. I knew how he felt, but I was not prepared for his aspirations and as I withdrew, he became angry and frustrated. It was his carelessness that revealed our city to evil." Meli began to tremble with these words and her voice grew soft as she concluded, "And now he sleeps in the great halls of sorrow, forever mourning that which he lost."

Tears streamed down her cheeks revealing to Frodo much more than she said with words. He could not help but feel that deep down in the depths of her heart, there was love for Giliath that even she was not aware of. His mind wandered as he held her, to thoughts of what might have been if these things had never happened. His heart grew heavy and sad for the young elf; he would forever more sleep in his tears for the love that he had lost. And Frodo knew how wondrous that love could be. However, he did not speak of these feelings, and though she felt them, Meli said nothing more; for there was nothing to be done to change any of it now.

Frodo had been gifted long ago on that great white ship, with the knowledge of the love that she had for him. And he felt its intensity strongly, every day. It gave him comfort that he could make her happy, for now. But his sorrow for Giliath and the love that he had lost never left this little hobbit. It was his way, gentle and caring, to think of others and their pain.

Meli's grief for Giliath never ended, in spite of her immense love for Frodo. However, she learned to tuck it away, deep within her heart so that it would never interfere with their lives.

**Author's note: I would like to take this opportunity to thank my two awesome editors, Celebrianna (Chapters 1-8) and Ithildiel Noldarin (chapters 8 to present) from the green screen at war of the ring. Without their talents and encouragement, I would have never considered posting this story. Please bear with me as Chapter 25 through 42 are fine tuned and polished; resulting in my posting of this story being a bit slower than it has been in the past. And I'd like to say _thank you_ to my dear friends who have taken the time to comment and review. Your words mean more than you know! Hugs, Cass**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25 **

**Bliss and Burgeon**

As the years passed by in blissful love and peace, the healing continued and the spell faded ever slowly as a dying ember in the hearth. The Colter Elves in their own bliss on the island continued to have many more children just as Frodo and Meli's family had begun. Of course life was not perfect and parenting was still the challenge that it was in the east, but it also held the same great joy that would never be regretted.

Meli's memory would forever hold the look on Frodo's face as he held their son for the first time. Samwise, they named him for the dearest friend of Frodo's heart and Geren, for Meli's beloved Father. Sammy, they called him for he brought an innocent sweetness to all hearts. He was like his father, favoring him in most ways; his furry feet, his dark curly hair, the biggest bluest eyes ever beheld; and from his mother, the deepest dimples, one in each cheek.

Sammy grew into a gardener, a true Hobbit. More than his father, he held the love of simplicity and good tilled soil. Well in tune with things of the earth he began at an early age to bond with Frodo as they toiled proudly through the gardens and forests to support the family. The island was filled with endless possibilities and success was abundant.

In the evenings the time he spent with his Mother was ever filled with the harmonious sounds of music whether it voice or instrument; it was beautiful and soothing after a long day. From a young age, he had a raw natural talent and an eye for a good piece of wood. He spent much time learning and creating many instruments. Different sounds and melodies echoed throughout the house as he experimented. Some were amusing in their imperfection, yet others were like a resonance of soft mellowing chords.

It was different, his music, unlike anything the Colter Elves had ever heard. Though he played with some skill, very few wanted to hear it. For the elders, it stirred their emotions feverishly; it brought memory of trauma they had pushed to the back of their minds. They were memories they had forgotten as the healing winds of Aman had enabled them to do and they did not want them back. The younger elves that were born in this blessed land simply did not comprehend the nature of the music; it moved them to emotions that were unfamiliar to them. They had never known anything but peace.

It was quite different however for Frodo and Meli. Though the iniquity within them was slowly fading like a tiny breeze that cleansed a great whiff of smoke, the evil still burned in embers, subtly haunting their lives and memories; taunting them at times through dreams and waking.

Sammy would sit by the fireside at night, playing tunes, plucking away at strings, or blowing into elegantly carved wood. His fingers were nimble, his lungs deep and his voice was sweet and full. His parent's hearts would mellow on his tenor notes giving the sensation of floating through the air. It brought peace and serenity, gloom and grief, jubilation and ecstasy and every other emotion to be felt by them. Meli and Frodo absorbed it with craving and were entranced by its passion. They could never get enough. It was a release to them, as it drew out their deep embedded fears and old pains; it brought them healing. Here was a wondrous blessing; a boy so sweetly precious that his very presence healed with his smile with a talent that brought forth emotions to ease the pain of the injustice within them. As he played, their thoughts poured forth in cleansing tears that left traces of smiles upon their cheeks.

Sammy's heart was broken at times when the Colters avoided his music and he soon learned not to play anywhere but home. He began to have an unnatural shyness around them to cope and it brought memory to Frodo of life in mortal lands. How pain, illness, tragedy and death were simply a fact of their life, as was joy and happiness. He now realized this land was not as perfect as he had thought. So he would offer Sammy lyrics to use and encouraged him to follow his heart without fear of what others may think.

"The Hobbits of the Shire might have loved that one," he would say. And in this way it kept the boy's creative flavors going as his music evolved naturally and healing continued.

Sammy craved knowledge of the Hobbits and Frodo indulged him proudly with many tales and memories. Over the years he spoke much about the Shire, Samwise Gamgee and all of the others who had touched Frodo's life. As Sammy grew, he came to know it as if he were part of it. Proud he was of this unique heritage and it brought a deep bonding between father and son.

Meli also spent much time with her son sharing their love of the horses. They were drawn to Sammy as if an unspoken understanding was there, yet they held the dominant position with the little one. He knew their every want and need and attended them as though it were his privilege. Eventually, Shadowfax and Nessa bred and brought forth two colts and Sammy raised them with much love, almost like his own children. The first one born, he named Strider, as he came out strong and stood bold, within minutes of his birth. His coat was brandy brown, his ears and tail black just like Nessa. He was a true leader and held a regal air of protection over any who rode him. Later was born gentle and delicate Evenstar. White and proud just like her Father except she had a silver shimmering mane, long and willowy. Her prance was as gentle as Strider's was strong, but when she ran, she ran like the wind and no creature could catch her, save Strider. It was she whose entire heart was given to Sammy's music. The horse would be mesmerized upon the first note of his voice and would nudge him affectionately after he sang to her.

It was not long after little Sammy had learned to walk, when a little flower graced the hearts of Frodo and Meli. Eowyn, they named their new daughter, to honor their beloved hero. She was adorable; though Frodo often, had to explain her appearance when anyone new came around. For she was fair with curly golden hair and sweet brown eyes, slanted on a long slender face.

"It is the Took side to my family that she resembles," he would say proudly. And each time he looked at her, his heart sighed in smiles with thoughts of his cousin Pippin and he called her 'Little Flower', a name that only her parent's could use.

Among the Colter Elves, she was very self-assured, having no traces whatsoever of her mother's shyness. She often sang among them, her voice not perfect, but her joyful manner engaging. This little one seemed always to be happy and was very good at cheering even the darkest of moods. When she was little, her overenthusiastic hugs were often a little painful, yet they always brought forth laughter to the recipient.

Eowyn had many friends. There were always at least one or two little elves around her engaging in her many interests or chattering in songs out on the front lawn.

The elven side was strongest in this little one as her greatest interest grew in love of the earth and art of all kinds. She was a crafter from a young age and found ways to create unusual things with the rarest of materials, each one holding a specific and useful purpose. Her skills and talents began far from perfect, yet as she grew so did the quality. She sculpted many statues using the descriptions from various people. Soon there was the attempted likeness of such wondrous beings as Gimli the Dwarf, Legolas Greenleaf, and King Elessar, throughout their gardens. Later as she matured, it was the sculpture of Arwen Undomiel that won her renown. Its beauty was exquisite, capturing the aura of her thought and the delicacy of her touch. She created it while spending some time with her Grandmother Linanna, visiting the house of Elrond.

They had journeyed to the city of Avalonnë, upon invitation from Celebrian, for she had grown curious and wished to know more about the Colter Elves. They lived in the heart of the city, their vast mansions carved from marble with gardens of lilacs and fountains laden with water lilies. It was a paradise, serene and golden offering great inspiration to an artist at heart. Celebrian, spoke much of Arwen, as it seemed to console her, and Eowyn absorbed every word, longing in her own thought to know her.

Now as they spoke, Celebrian learned that Linanna was with her daughter, Arwen, as she turned from the path of the Havens. She meekly asked to know more of her daughter's moment of decision. Unfortunately, Linanna knew little about it since Arwen was quiet and withdrawn for the entire journey. All she could say, was the young Lady suddenly halted her horse, staring off into the woods as if she had seen a spirit; then suddenly turned and with tears on her cheeks rode off before anyone could stop her.

Upon learning of Arwen's love for Aragorn, it gave little Eowyn inspiration to create the statue in the gardens. It was a wonder to see, its beauty such splendor that it moved emotions; creating a sensation that the light of the Evenstar softly graced its smooth porcelain surface. And as word of mouth spread, many came to see.

Sammy and Eowyn were the typical brother and sister. They playfully poked each other, bickered over chores, and teased each other to tears. But far within their thought was a simple respect for each other and occasionally it slipped through, creating an awkward bonding that brought forth a mingling of their talents. They created many musical instruments together, Eowyn bringing forth manipulation and adornment of the wood and Sammy designing its function. They were not always sweet sounding, nor were they always a beauty to behold; but their purpose was satisfying enough to move them to song before the fire at night. Sammy held an elaborate harp, double-sided so he could pluck both sides in harmony of each other; and Eowyn a flute, playing soulfully in compliment of Sammy's golden voice. And every once in a while Meli would join in with her velvety soprano; and the song, which had been written in old Sindarin by Frodo, would flow through the halls in wondrous gaiety. One example was a song about a Birch tree, and the secrets that were exchanged by wood and the sky. It was a song of dreams and the coming of autumn in red, yellow and orange delight! It flowed through sleepy winter like a dream that held the branches in safety. Then it erupted into flittering climax as spring burst forth in new green! Finally it settled upon serene summer with maturity and honor.

When Eowyn was still a baby barely singing with complete words, once again Meli felt that familiar pang of stirring in her womb. She knew almost right away that she had two babies within her. For she had an unusually robust appetite from the beginning and later she slept very little for they were active; never giving her peace. Frodo tried his best to take care of his family running ragged day and night though he did have the help of Linanna and Geren. The day they were born arrived as a swift wind catching them off guard as time had swept by them. Meli relished the first moment her eyes met theirs as instant love flooded her heart and all the pain and discomfort poured out through her tears. Frodo just beamed; it was like a huge release for the entire family, from all of the turmoil that they had been through in that time. First sight of these precious babies enslaved their hearts forever.

Geren approached the bed as his daughter held them, one in each arm. "What are you going to name these boys, dear Frodo?" he asked. Frodo and Meli fell into joyous laughter as he responded, "Merry and Pippin of course!"

They were just as active and curious as their namesakes and whenever they could get into anything, they did with much robust and sometimes a little trouble. As they grew older it was apparent they had inherited not only their Mother's looks, but also her love of the water. They poured all of their artistic abilities into perfecting the dive from the highest peaks and exploring the depths of the ocean surrounding the island. In the beginning this rattled Frodo's nerves quite a lot as it seemed impossible to keep track of them and for safety's sake, he had to become very firm with them on more than one occasion. Meli was less fearful, however, and always laughed a little inside when they would sneak off for a swim. It brought memories to her of her own naughty excursions. However, it didn't take long for Frodo to realize their natural abilities and eventually he released his anxiety. From then on, there was evermore an abundance of fish on the tables of the Colter Elves from these boys.

Now through their exploring, they managed to find Meli and Frodo's cave. It interested them little, since the size was small but it gave them the curiosity to seek further into the depths of the waters around the great mountains for similar places. It was in this way that they found a great cavern, off the northern shore of the island beneath the tallest peak. They found it by water as they were swimming the deep below a sheer drop of mountain. Just as Meli had found the little underground opening to her cave, they found a larger opening, like a gateway about six feet under the morning tide.

As they swam through, they came upon a sandy beach, dark but not so dark they could not see. It had an occasional stream of light sneaking its way in through rock crevices and green growth above. The cave was great to behold, though not as beautiful as their parent's cave. Its ceiling was almost too high to see and in exploring it, they discovered many passages and miles of tunnels, one leading to a small, hidden valley in the mountain's western side.

The cave's most interesting feature was the brown look to the walls. It was almost as if it held an ancient wood, petrified in eternal sleep within embraces of grey rock. And every once in a while it seems it stirred in thought as though a dream moved it into song and all the echoes could be heard throughout the caverns as a soft murmuring in contented sleep.

It took most of Merry and Pippin's growing years to explore it all, much of the time keeping it a secret so not to upset their Father with worry for their safety. By the time Frodo found out about it, they had already seen most of it and were old enough that he just shook his head and smiled. However, it was many years before he went himself to see it.

The twins were now nearing the halfway mark of childhood. Frodo and Meli thought their family was complete, and life could get no better; then Little Bilbo came along surprising them with more joy. He resembled his Grandfather Geren and was the typical baby of the family, spoiled and loved unconditionally. However, it did not hinder his disposition; it only enhanced it. From a young age, he was a great storyteller, performing all he learned; he even made up some of his own fictions. Many holidays were spent around the fire listening to the little one as he very eloquently articulated the stories with his performances. He held his audience in complete emotive state until the end when they would erupt in applause. He was often called upon to entertain and became quite the celebrity among the Colters as he grew. Yet funny as it may be, he had inherited from his Mother a shy nature although it never brought him fear; he was just quiet. When he was not performing, very little sound ever came from his lips and it was seldom known that he was even in the room.

As he grew older Little Bilbo became preoccupied with reading and writing. There weren't many books among them, for the Colters had none and very few had ever passed into the west with the elves. Meli spoke often of the time she spent in Elrond's library; her longing for books had never left her. It planted a seed in Little Bilbo and he asked her to teach him. Meli thought it a delightful idea and gathered all of her children for the lessons. Bilbo learned quickly how to discern each letter or rune and once he knew how, he created many books, eventually building a fairly respectable library. He wrote documentaries, and history with the help of his Father, Gandalf, Elrond and Galadriel. He helped his father finish a new version of the red book and many others. He also wrote his Mother's story for history to pass down but withheld these from his performances as the memory through words brought back pain for his parents. As time passed, he craved more. He began to write fictions, drawing from his endless imagination and color. Although there were few who indulged in his writings; his parents, Gandalf, and Elrond to name a few; it mattered not to him. His joy was simply in their existence and personal pleasure.

Uncle Bilbo delighted in each and every child as they entered the world. It even made him seem a little younger as he sat on the floor playing with them or reading to them. Sometimes on a good day he would even romp with them a little. They respected him immensely and loved on him affectionately; it was his story telling that held their utmost attention although it was the same story over and over again.

He was especially drawn to Sammy. The young boy had a firm grip on his heartstrings with his soft blue eyes that reminded him of the days when Frodo was younger. It soothed his heart to see the happiness that had finally come to Frodo; the rewards generously bestowed upon him through this boy. He held Sammy often when he was a baby, sometimes falling asleep with the infant tucked cozily under his arms and upon his shoulder. Meli placed that picture into the depths of her mind to cherish forever.

Finally time caught up with him. Two years after the birth of Little Bilbo, his spirit made his last journey to the Halls of Mandos to rest blissfully ever after at the ripe old age of 145. Frodo laid his sweet body to rest at the foot of the mountain, and planted a tree nearby in his honor. It grew to great height, reminding Frodo of the Party Tree. He began a new custom; to spend their birthday under the tree telling tales and singing as if Bilbo could hear them. And he always ended that day there alone, softly singing in unison with memory…**_The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone, and I must follow, if I can…_**


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Discontent

Frodo and Meli often found themselves, wrapped in the affectionate arms of their children, for in their loving family was a special gift that was bestowed upon them through the songs of the Valar. And with each and every day, they returned that song in overwhelming thanks for all of the blessings they had been given.

However, life in Aman was not perfect, as perfect would have demanded monotony. For without the choices of imperfect beings, there would surely be little joy. As the children grew, it became apparent that the elven side was dominant in them all, except for Sammy who held somewhat equal parts within him. Yet even _his_ childhood slipped by quickly, quietly; without the burden of mortal illnesses. Of course, the danger of injury was always a threat. Fate was kind though, and no one suffered anything greater than cuts or bruises and an occasional broken finger or toe. Still, they all inherited the growing rate of a Hobbit, which was much faster than an elf.

It was a real eye opener for the Colter Elves, for they had never been exposed to the differences of mortality. Some of the little Colter friends were saddened to see the Baggins children pass them by, in size and maturity. But it gave Frodo and Meli's children great variety in friendships, a gift in itself, and as adulthood commenced upon them, all was good again; all, but for one.

Sammy suffered a painful childhood around the Colters, as his unnatural shyness simmered in frustration. Yet his home life was merry; he was an outgoing and fun little boy with his siblings and parents. Still, he was not completely friendless and for a little while, he enjoyed the company of a couple of children that lived nearby. A boy named Belindir and a girl named Annawen; their families resided on the outskirts of Coivinya and they came by the Baggins household often to find Sammy. Many an hour was spent on the beaches swimming and searching for seashells, or building great towers and castles in the sand. And then they would be joined by the other children and all would enjoy games of chase and tickle or hide and seek.

These good times were abundant for a while for Sammy, but soon he grew near to adulthood, and he passed his friends by in size and maturity. And though he became like the big brother to them and they looked up to him; it was not long, until he became bored with child's play. So he tried to blend in with some of the older elves, but he was unsuccessful in finding the comradely he so passionately craved.

There was no interest in his music by the young Colter Elves, though they were ever kind; even complimenting him about his skill and voice. But still, they did not want to hear it; they avoided Sammy and removed themselves from the area if he began playing. It crushed him. For a while he held his head high and attempted to adapt, to become as they were and enjoy the things that they did. He attempted to sing their songs, and delve into their activities be it dance or craft or merry making play. Yet even as they indulged in the joy of the land, Sammy felt as though he were off kilter, out of sync with all around him; as though he were a puppy among lambs. He became reclusive and withdrawn; even self conscious about his Hobbit feet.

It was near two years to the time when Sammy was to come of age and now, it so happened that about this time, an even greater discontent began to enter his soul. In the most recent months, his shyness with the other elves on the island became intense. Frodo and Meli worried, they were saddened by their son's discomfort and were aware of the fact that it was completely out of character for their boy. Yet there was nothing that they could do that would help, but to hold hope that he would eventually outgrow it. As time passed on, he became more and more withdrawn and he felt out of place.

All he could do was try to cope, and in doing so, he became increasingly interested in the mainland of Aman. He listened intensely to Gandalf every time that place was mentioned until finally one day he took him aside to ask him point blank, "Gandalf, I understand my Father as a mortal is forbidden entry to the mainland." Sammy stated this very boldly with determination in his eyes.

"That is true," said Gandalf in curious tone.

"Can I?" asked Sammy. "I am not of the Noldor, who returned to pardon, nor am I mortal. Am I not Peredhil? Do I have a choice?"

Gandalf answered him with the wisdom Sammy was expecting, "Yes, my boy you do have a choice. As half-elven you have the choice to be counted among elves or hobbits. As an immortal, you will be granted the choice of where you reside, whether it be here on the Island, or on the mainland. If you choose mortality, however, your choice will be far greater."

Suddenly Gandalf looked at him with piercing thought. He could see the unrest that stirred deep within the reflections of the boy's eyes. He then chose his words carefully, "You see, Sammy…if you accept the choice to become mortal, you may leave these lands altogether. The decision of your mortality can only be made when you come of age and can only be made once. Think about it carefully, dear Sammy. For each side can hold either the happiness, or the doom of your heart. Keep in mind, _one_ of these choices will bring forth grief to all of those you love; for there will be no turning back."

Sammy thought deeply about it for the next two years, even becoming obsessed. He continually asked many questions, especially from his parents. He even questioned Little Bilbo on history and took a new interest in his library. He interviewed the other elves and Gandalf seeking to learn as much as he could about the cities and mainland of Aman. He wanted to know about all the people that lived there. He sought knowledge about all of Arda. He absorbed detail about mortals from his parents, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel and any other elf that had passed from the eastern lands. One thing was very clear in his mind. He had lived unhappy in this place, as though the atmosphere was foreign to his every breath. He was not at home.

His love for his family ached within him as he continually strived to fit in, to let the elven side be strongest. Again he forced himself to mingle with the others, but the pull was ever to his garden, planting, pruning, alone in his room writing songs, playing his instruments, or spending time with the horses. Always in solitude; it was the only place he felt somewhat comfortable. This lifestyle left a quiet discomfort, for it was not his true nature and he ached inside.

One day as he often did, he was sitting alone in the garden, mentally building a list of pros and cons as he plucked at the grass seemingly lost in thought.

Meli watched him from the kitchen window as heaviness came over her heart. Deep inside she began to acknowledge it, yet had probably known all along; but she had held it down in denial until this day. Now, she finally admitted to herself, they were going to lose their son. It would be no problem if he chose the mainland or other parts of the Isle; he could come and go as he wished. But that day her heart told her he was going to choose the east and would never be able to return. Aching welled in her heart and suddenly she thought of Frodo.

Once again she cried the words in a tearful whisper, "Hasn't he seen enough pain in his life?"

Yes, painful it was. Three months later after Sammy's birthday, he took his parents aside and quietly told them he was leaving…leaving them forever. To pass into the east; becoming a mortal, a Hobbit at heart. Meli braced her self, not knowing how Frodo was going to react. For herself she wanted to scream, she wanted to hold him, she ached inside to the very core of her being; her baby was leaving her!

Frodo just sat there for a moment, quiet, as he slowly swallowed. Tears welled in his eyes and he blinked as he turned his face away. Meli felt it deep; the hurt and the pain. Frodo's blanket was heavier than she had ever felt it. She longed to take him into her arms, to take them both and hold them tight; in the bondage of her love, forever more! But she could not move. It was as though it held her back as it contemplated this horrible reality. Yet suddenly, almost as quickly as it bore down on her feelings, it lifted again as though a tremendous weight had come off it. Frodo sniffed and shook his head, then softly said, "I know. I have known all of your life."

With these words, Meli felt a release and she took her son into her arms, wasting no time to hold him. Frodo wrapped his arms around the two and as they held each other in tears; not one knew of any words that would change things.

All but one of Sammy's siblings accepted his choice painfully, tearfully, but respectfully. It was Little Bilbo that could not. When the announcement was made, he suffered the greatest shock as though Sammy had slapped him with hate. For Sammy had been his favorite, just like his Uncle Bilbo; he adored him. As they grew up, the little one watched his older brother with awe and whenever they were together it was a union of the heart; for Sammy adored his little brother as well. However, as Sammy's unease crept in over the last few years, Little Bilbo seemed to resent Sammy's reclusive behavior and occasionally an argument erupted over the silliest little things. And now with this news, the quiet little one exploded in anger! Much chaos covered the day as he shouted his grief and pushed his brother with resentment, unwilling to accept the decision.

The family tried desperately to console him though it was difficult to do as they dealt with their own pain. Each one spoke their feelings, and tried to explain to Bilbo how they understood, how they had seen their brother suffer, how they had come to accept this painful decision in their own mind. But the little one closed his ears as though their words were poison and he refused to accept any reason.

Finally late in the afternoon, Sammy could take no more and he ran away, deep into the woods to empty his heart of tears. He was gone for two days, wishing to sob into the leaves but the tears would not come. It was as though he were dry to the bone. Bitterness aged him into grey thought and all he could do was reproach, him self repeatedly as he dug deep into his soul to fill it with shame. At several points he decided to forego the journey; stay behind and live in grief upon this isle forever more, just to appease his little brother's need; just to ease the pain he had brought on his family. But he knew if he did, eventually he would fall into such sorrow that he would just lie down to sleep forever more. He was trapped; no matter what he did, he would never be able to ease the pain. The pull to the east was so heavy to bear. It was as though he could not stop himself whether he wanted to or not.

Meli was frantic the entire time he was gone. Visions whirled in her head as though she could see all that Sammy was thinking and the weight of Frodo's blanket choked her. In agony she searched the woods as did all of Sammy's family. But he did not want to be found and he evaded their every approach. It was not until Frodo came upon him that he allowed revelation of his position. He was curled up under a tree, shivering from the cold of the early morning when he heard his father's voice calling to him. The pain in his voice echoed through the wood in the misty dawn and it settled upon Sammy's ears finally bringing the tears he had sought. All he could think about at that moment was the fact that his father had seen far too much pain in one lifetime, and yet here he was, bringing more on to him. And to top it all off, his mother felt it twofold! Shame fell over him and he ran into his father's arms with sobs of "I am so sorry, I am so sorry!"

Relief flowed through each of his loved ones as Frodo and Sammy came down from the woods. With tears and sighs, they ran to embrace him with expression of their love. However, it was a cold and silent Little Bilbo, who could not face Sammy, nor give him a word or two.

As Meli's eyes met his she knew immediately that her vision were true; she knew she had entered his thoughts. A deeper understanding came to her then and from that point on, she subtly encouraged his every move to sail into the east.

Sammy was given a grey ship, small but adequate with a tiny cabin and stables, for he had decided to take Strider and Evenstar along. He practiced for months on the Shadowy Seas, learning all that he needed to know about boats for his solo journey. He was to be the first and only being, ever to leave Aman after the seas were bent, and to be granted that grace was in it's self an astonishing thing in the eyes of the sailors that taught him. He would be safely in the hands of the Valar until he left the Straight Road way, but then after that, he was on his own. His plan was to sail into the Bay of Belfalas, slip through Cobas Haven and then finally land at the southernmost elf-haven of Edhellond making his first visit at Dol Amroth.

Frodo and Sammy sat together many times going over the geography of the eastern lands and discussing the people Frodo had known. In this way, Sammy planned his journey, deciding what sights he wanted to see and whom to visit along the way. He mapped out the trip to cover it all and worked out the timeframe to arrive in the Shire, by spring. With each and every moment together, Sammy felt his throat swell with guilt for bringing this pain to his father. He could feel it thickly each time he looked at him, though he knew that Frodo respected his decision. He appreciated that most of his family did accept it. This was not an easy thing to do and Little Bilbo stayed constantly on his mind. Many times as he laid in the soft comfort of his room at night, reflecting on it all, just as he did in the woods, he thought to call it off; stay and dwell in the unnatural discontent of a wondrous land. He wondered why this was happening to him, why was he so out of place in his skin. But no answers would come, only a feeling that it was a natural need and he could not deny it, nor stop it. He was a Hobbit through and through, and he could not change that.

Frodo savored each and every moment with his son, and placed it deep into his memory to keep for ever more; to soothe his broken heart. And as a blessing, the pain of losing Sammy was somewhat softened with the excitement that he began to feel in, thoughts that his son was going to meet all of those that had played such an emotional part of his life. Sammy knew well, the details of how they had touched his father, from reading Frodo's writings, and listening intently late at night as Frodo whispered answers to his many questions. Yet even now, Frodo still held his utmost attention as he so eloquently retold the tales of each as if he were telling them anew.

He began with the tale of Ithilien, a fair green wood and his meeting with Faramir, of whom Frodo had come to feel deep respect. And as his voice trailed on through the alluring words, and the night grew ever old; Sammy envisioned the light of the Dunedain in the man's eyes and he absorbed the respect his father emitted.

Each night, they moved on to other faces in tales, as Frodo held his little son in complete fascination. He spoke of Prince Imrahil, of Dol Amroth, "He was tall as the sky and humble, a true gentleman!"

Then there was the story of Beregond and his son Bergil of Gondor, whom Frodo had met through his cousin Pippin after the war. And he tickled Sammy's imagination with tales of the Ents, Treebeard and Quickbeam! Then delight touched his little son with stories of his days in Gondor as they merrily celebrated the wedding of the King and his Queen, in Minas Tirith.

But the one tale that closely touched Sammy's heart was a tale told with much pride and honor; the tale of Eowyn.

His father spoke as one deeply moved, "For it was she, with the help of Merry that slew the evil Witch King. That spell brought so much pain to your Nane. If it not for their actions, what other evil would have come to those who fought so bravely? I have often wondered Sammy, how many other lives were touched by that evil spell? And how on earth did they cope without the healing peace of Aman?"

Frodo looked at his son and noticed the intent in his eyes. He placed his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Tell them for me, Sammy. Tell them how grateful we are and how happy we are now, in this blessed land."

Sammy nodded, "I will tell them Poppy. I promise."

Then Frodo spoke of King Eomer, so strong and bold, yet there was softness about him when it came to his beautiful sister Eowyn and he was very protective of her. Sammy laughed at the thought that Eomer felt the need to protect such a notorious and heroic sister. Then he thought of his own sister, Eowyn; and understanding came to him of the bond Eomer had with his sibling. All of the bickering, teasing and taunting; those are always done in fun, or in the mundane coping of day to day life, living in the same house with the same siblings. But deep seated is the devotion, the understanding, the love; only brought out for a sibling when absolutely necessary.

He laughed to himself. "Yes, I would want to protect my sister too."

Though each character his father spoke of was interesting and held his complete attention, Sammy could never get enough of hearing about two; Aragorn and Samwise. These were the people Sammy was most curious about, for with each word Frodo spoke, an intense respect and love for them both was revealed.

"Aragorn…Strider," Frodo said as his voice quivered a little. "You know the first moment I met him, he scared the daylights out of me. What a passionate man he is," Frodo laughed. "Yes, if passionate is a strong enough word. That man did everything with zeal. And honorably I might add. He is a true King in every sense of the word, deserving of all that has been bestowed upon him. His kingdom, peace and his love…" Frodo's eyes sparkled, "Arwen; the most beautiful elven lass to ever walk the earth. Well, next to your Nana of course." They both laughed, and then they sighed.

"Aragorn and Sam," said Frodo. "They are family in my heart." And although Frodo had said it many times, he once more told Sammy, "I will see Sam again someday, for he was also a Ringbearer, for a little while."

It was with these words that Sammy vowed to himself, to write a little bit about his life each day in a journal. Then, when Samwise was ready to leave, he would give it to him to bring to Aman and surprise every one. This special gift would show his family, how his life unfolded in the Shire. He hoped it would be happy, as happy as theirs were here.

It was the night before Sammy was to sail. The family had been quiet and emotional giving him much love and affection; all but Little Bilbo. Sammy was lying in bed, wide awake; his heart pulled in all directions. He had no doubts of whether or not he should go, but it did not lessen the pain of hurting his family and leaving them. He began to contemplate whether he should attempt once more to talk to Bilbo. He ached inside with the thought of leaving him this way. A massive need weighed heavily in his heart to gain his little brother's acceptance before morning. But as he dwelled on it, no new words would come to him; he knew not, what to say. Tears of regret pooled in his eyes.

A soft knock on the front door echoed through the hallway and he sat up listening to the hurried footsteps of his father. He heard voices, then a gentle tap at his bedroom door. He scurried out of bed and opened it.

Frodo was standing in the dark hallway, "You have visitors Son, dress quickly."

Sammy was still tucking in his shirt when he entered the room. Looming tall and beautiful in the Baggins parlor was Lady Celebrian accompanied by Lord Elrond. Sammy knew them well having visited their home in Avalonnë many times throughout his life. And he had just seen them a week before at a small farewell celebration in Coivinya. All of the Colters and the Halladur he had known through out his life were given the opportunity to say goodbye. But never before had these two made the journey so far down the coast so unexpectedly.

They both smiled warmly as Sammy entered the room. He bowed to them showing his respect and lightly kissed the soft hand of Celebrian. Immediately, as did always happen, Sammy noticed the jewel that hung about the fair lady's neck. Visions of the moment it was given to his father entered his mind as it had always done. And as always, it made him smile. Meli entered the room with tea and after hugs of welcome they all sat down, wordless but with smiles of pleasantry.

Celebrian spoke first seemingly slightly nervous. "You are ready to sail tomorrow to the east?"

Politely Sammy answered, "I am my Lady. Can I be of service to you?"

She smiled again in relief of his spoken offer. "Yes, I was not quite sure how to ask. I understand you will be passing through Minas Tirith on your way to the Shire. I was wondering if perhaps you would not mind delivering these to our daughter, Arwen."

She held up two envelopes neatly tied together with soft violet ribbon; one was addressed to Lady Arwen and one to Elessar, the King.

Sammy smiled warmly, "I will be happy to do that for you."

The look on Celebrian's face at these words moved Sammy and as he took the envelopes, he took hold of her hand and warmly held it for a moment, as he watched her other hand absentmindedly stroke the jewel.

Elrond sighed with gratitude as he placed his hand on the little hobbit's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Thank you dear Sammy, we shall never forget your kindness."

Too soon, it seemed the morning came. The household prepared to accompany Sammy to the docks. Little Bilbo attempted to stay behind, but Frodo became firm with him and demanded he come along. The little one stayed far to the back of the group as they commenced by foot to Avalonnë.

The eastern, shore of the island was blanketed in mist as the early morning sun edged closer to rising. Sammy led his horses, feeling giddy with excitement as they marched over the road. Little was said, for they all felt the reality of what was to come and every once in a while a sniffle could be heard as the cold air tickled their noses. When the boat came into view, Sammy's heart burst with anxiety as he anticipated the next few moments of his life. Slowly they commenced down the steep path that had been cut into the hill and lined with slates of bronze colored rock. The sound of the horse's hooves clopped dully upon the rock as their massive bodies carefully navigated the path. Sprigs of wild grass reached forth to tickle their feet and the smell of the salt hung heavily in the cool humid air.

The water was choppy; the boat rocked against the wooden dock as though it were urging the little one in whispers of 'come on, let us go now!' Sammy stopped just a few feet away from the ship and stood looking at it, seemingly lost in thought, gathering courage for the overwhelming moment that was to come. Then he slowly turned to face everyone.

Gandalf stepped forward and kneeled down, placing his hand on the young Hobbit's shoulder. "Farewell, my little friend. May the Valar watch over, you." Sammy hugged him warmly as his first tears attempted to make their appearance; but he fought them.

He hugged his Grandparents and took out his handkerchief to softly wipe the tears from Linanna's eyes, though more were to come.

He then said his farewells to his siblings, holding each one tightly as he brushed away their tears; vowing to each one, that he would never forget them and kissing each cheek to hold forever more.

Little Bilbo was taking it all very hard and could not contain his grief although his temper was finally under control. Sammy took him into his arms and held him very long, fighting with all his will to hold back his own tears. He whispered words of consolation, but nothing he could say would ease the little one's sobs or loosen his arms that held tightly around his big brother.

Finally new words came to him so he very quietly whispered into his ear. "Bilbo, remember the blue book that you gave me long ago when you were building your library? You asked me to write in it, to fill your library with the variety of all those you hold dear. I am so sorry, little brother, that I never wrote a word."

Bilbo heaved another sob in regret as Sammy continued, "Do you know what? I packed that book in my things, and I promise you; I will write each and every day; especially for you, my dear, dear little brother. And when Samwise Gamgee so decides it is time to sail into the west, I will ask him to bring it to you; a gift from your brother who will forever hold you in his heart."

Bilbo smiled in delight for just a moment, and the two embraced ever tighter, squeezing as much love as they could from one another. Sammy then dried his little brother's tears and once again Bilbo smiled for him as he let go. But no words would come from the little one, for he was quiet in his way.

Finally it came time to say farewell to his parents. His eyes met with his Nane and though deep pain throbbed in his throat, he could feel her thoughts. "Let it be, dear Sammy. Let it be." His eyes grew wide and suddenly he realized that she would always be there, deeply embedded in his heart as well as his thoughts. He gazed into her eyes for a moment or two, sealing his memory of her sweet face and absorbing her aura; for she was also _his_ melanna. Then he took her into his arms and held her as he placed his last kiss upon her cheek.

Frodo opened a package he had been carrying, and pulled out a cloak, old and a little worn. He placed it on Sammy's shoulders and clipped it with the elven leaf that had held it so long ago upon his own weary shoulders. He then kissed his son's forehead in tender earnest while memories of old pulled on his eyes. Sammy's tears waited no more. No words could ever tell, of the grief that they beheld as they held each other for the last time. Yet as Frodo and Meli consoled his tears, it was they who whispered encouraging words to fill him with the courage to do this thing that he had to do.

And as the winds of time commenced upon them all, they would come to accept it and be happy in spite of their losses. For they all knew, he was going home.

Sammy slipped out of the harbor, standing straight, chin high, but with a sigh, as he touched his lips and raised his hand in a kiss of farewell. Just then, he looked up and all along the shore road he saw many friends; Colters and Halladur, each waving with one hand held high and the other hand soulfully upon their hearts. Slowly the ship slipped away, into the sunrise, with a soft song flowing to them in the breeze; a song from the heart of a little Colter Hobbit.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27 **

**Sailing into Mortality**

Sammy began his journey across the sea with a song; a song of prayer giving thanks and asking safe passage as he sailed. He sang loud and clear, as his melodic notes echoed through the waves, some in the common speech some in old Sindarin, the tongue of his Mother. Passing the Straight Road was seamless for he was carried by Ulmo. And safe his voyage was, although he did hit one storm facing the wrath of Ossë. But Uinen stayed Ossë's hand and with the skills Sammy learned from the sailors, he made it through -although he often had to work the sails to his favor to keep on course.

The most difficult part of the journey however, was the loneliness as time stretched beyond ending. Yet even in the darkest hour of solitude the little one did not regret his decision. He knew somehow deep in his heart that he would find peace and happiness wherever his road led.

He laughed aloud thinking of Uncle Bilbo's journey, "Well I _am_ a Baggins after all!" He shouted into the echoes of the ocean.

But then his laughter remembered pain as he thought of his father's journey. "Well at least we don't have _that_ evil to deal with anymore." Then he reflected on the deeds of his Father and the others that he was about to meet.

He passed his time tending and pampering the horses, talking to them as if they understood it all. And writing in his journal, not waiting a single day to fulfill his promise to little Bilbo. Then he sang more songs, and played his instruments as the birds gathered round the boat, curious of the melodies. The chords were colorful, jubilant and fine. They expressed his excitement, his anticipation and even stifled his fears. It was a sound that had never come from him before, different in its intricacy, yet not foreign to him. It was from his soul, an expression that had been held deep within and never allowed out.

Finally after what seemed many long days, he arrived late on a sunny afternoon. And with his first sight of land he said aloud, "By the grace of mighty Ulmo, I am delivered!" And he sang softly, his heartfelt thanks, in unison with the sound of Ulmo's great horns and they echoed throughout the clouds as the white gulls fluttered about.

The view of the harbor from his ship was astonishing. Never before had Sammy seen so many buildings clustered together for so many miles, and the artwork, old and antiquated made him gasp with awe. The city was built mostly from yellow stone, intricately carved and there were many trees, and bushes all in bloom with brilliant color. Boats dotted the water all over the crystal blue bay and there was a busy road that carved its way all along the shore for as far as his keen eyes could see. But the most spectacular sight of all was far off to his right. The waves were large and fierce; pounding their way upon mighty rock, and looming high above was the city of Dol Amroth. It had many towers some capped with gold and others sharply tipped with light, but the tallest emerged high almost into the clouds, illuminating a warm golden glow and Sammy could feel eyes upon him.

Long before he docked, he raised his banner of peace as instructed by the sailors that trained him, and the sight of it waving high brought recognition to those on the shore as one of the ships that had sailed for Aman. Never before had they seen such a ship return and word passed through the village so quickly, that a large crowd had gathered before he tied down.

Slowly with heart pounding so hard he thought it would burst out of his chest, he led the horses off the boat; his possessions packed neatly in bundles on each side of their mighty bodies. The crowd was so large, he wasn't able to get far and everyone was staring and murmuring about the little one with the big horses. There were a few elves among them, but most were of the race of men, the first Sammy's eyes had ever seen. He was astonished at how alike they were, men and elves, yet different enough; it was something in their eyes that revealed them to be of mortal race.

Two elves made their way forward and welcomed him courteously introducing themselves as the Elders; Girion, Lord of Ships and Haldan, Lord of Smiths. They were tall like the Halladur Sammy had grown up among, but their clothes were nothing like he had ever seen before; thick and brown, their coats were long and split in the back almost to their knees. The collars were some kind of fur and its bristles glistened gold with black tips. There were strands of leather plaited through their long straight hair and each had a single golden gem that hung low on their foreheads. It reminded Sammy of the eyes of one of Lady Celebrian's cats.

The murmurs grew louder as the crowd marveled at his size and noticing his feet, they marveled even more that a Perian had sailed from the west to reside in Middle Earth! He dared not to even mention that he was half-elven, for his shyness was taking hold. But the elves seemed to know, he could feel it in their look and with many questions flying about, finally it came out that his mother was an elf.

"But what elf would mingle with a Perian?" someone rudely asked.

Sammy took a deep breath clearly uncomfortable with this attention, but then he politely and patiently proceeded to explain the history of his people, elaborating on his relation to the Colter Elves and the Hobbits of the Shire. Eyebrows shot up at the mention of the Baggins name, for in time, Frodo's accomplishment had grown into a wild tale of notoriety throughout all of the lands in this area. Sammy attempted to correct inaccuracies but found it a task too complex to unweave as some even debated with his information. Again, he took a deep breath unsure of what to say or what to do. Overwhelmed with the situation, he decided to end the attempt and just smile and nod.

Finally one of the elders took control and with quick words, disbursed most of the crowd, demanding that they give Sammy some breathing space. They took him to a large Inn near to the busy docks, and led him into the stables. A small crowd followed behind and gathered at the doorway as Sammy led the horses into the stalls. He began to feel uneasy, unsure of the safety of his horses and belongings.

"Here, here!" hollered the stable hand, "be off with you!"

Sammy breathed a sigh of relief as the crowd grumbled and finally dispersed in full. Now all that remained was the two elders and a tall gangly looking man who quickly barked orders to the stable hand to stow Sammy's things and tend the horses.

They led him around to a side entrance and into a great hall. It was bristling with business but the man led them to a small table; secluded in the far corner.

He barked more orders, this time for ale and then eyed Sammy with intense interest. "I am Garulf, son of Galmod, keeper of this Inn." said the man, as though he were proud of the position. "Well Master Baggins, your arrival made quite a stir. Please forgive us for our curiosity. We do not usually treat our visitors so abruptly. May I ask, what are your plans?"

Sammy felt relieved for his courtesy and sighed as he explained, "I will be traveling to Dol Amroth tomorrow, Sir. If I may, I would like to request a room for the night if you have one available.

However, I cannot pay you in the currency you are accustomed to."

Sammy pulled out of his pocket a small black pouch. It contained several nuggets of mithril that he had gathered from the caves near Coivinya. He pulled one out and offered it to the man.

Garulf's eyes grew wide and he smiled stating that it would more than suffice.

A large pint of ale was set before Sammy. It was brown and warm, and a little too bitter, but it made him relax a little as he gulped it down. He looked around the room trying to avoid the stares. Most of the other patrons were men, although a few elves mingled among them. It was a clean and homey Inn, but the light was dim and the furniture obviously old. The room was filled with the smell of fresh cooked fish and it made his mouth water.

He then turned to Girion and made arrangements for the storage of the ship; it was to be turned over to the Prince at Dol Amroth to use as he may. Girion complied hastily with satisfaction as another nugget of mithril was pulled from Sammy's pouch.

Suddenly a burly man in a dirty apron appeared with plates for their table; some slices of poultry, fried fish and a soft bread with plenty of creamy butter. Sammy ate heartily, holding true to his Hobbit heritage and chased it down with more of the ale as his hosts chattered about business in Edhellond. Soon he felt relaxed and sleepy, nearing exhaustion from the excitement and the nerves. He yearned for the solitude he thought he had grown weary of on the ship. With a yawn he could not contain, he mustered up the courage to ask for his room, and was completely relieved when they complied. They led him up to the second floor of the inn and bowing courteously before the door, they said their farewells.

A great sigh left Sammy's lips as the door finally clicked, sealing the fact that he was finally alone again. After all those long lonely days on the ship, all of this attention was too much. Yet he refused to reflect on the unease the crowd had placed him under. Instead he held thoughts of the kindness of the Elders and Garulf. He neatly folded his clothes across a chair, washed himself from a cold basin and then climbed into the cold sheets, shivering but content. The excitement of the day now finally took its toll and he fell into a drizzling dream of misty rain at Dol Amroth.

He arose very early, before the sun, gathered his things and quietly crept out of the inn where they had placed him. The city was asleep but there were a few already out and about. They did not notice him as he used his natural furtiveness to slip by, entering the stables with a slight click of the door. The stable hand could be heard snoring loudly from a room off the backside of the stalls. Sammy slowly and quietly placed his things on the horse's backs, cooing them gently to keep them calm. As he led them through the door it creaked as a bundle bumped it abruptly. He stood still and cringed at the thought of having to deal with more questions. Slowly he closed the door and within an instant he had climbed up on Strider and they were off with a quick gallop, leaving the Edhellond far behind.

It wasn't hard to find Dol Amroth; its highest tower could be seen for many miles. But it took most of the morning and part of the afternoon. Along the way Sammy wondered what he would say when he got there. His father had not known Prince Imrahil for very long, but he spoke of the great man's valor, in war. He had said that the prince was a very tall man, with high blood. He was descended from the line of the Dunedain and of an elvish maiden, of long ago, though Sammy could not remember her name.

Drawing near, he slowed a little, his shyness creeping into his skin. He was thinking of perhaps turning around and heading north. But there was a small voice in his head; it reminded him of the tale of Imrahil, how this brave man led his army in aid to Gondor.

Sammy could still hear his father's voice as he told the story that had been told to him, "and the people of Gondor called out 'Amroth for Gondor! Amroth to Faramir!'…And when the battle was ended with retreat, it was Imrahil that bore the wounded body of Faramir, son of Denethor, to safety."

With this fascinating memory, Sammy knew he would regret not meeting this mighty man, so he plunged on.

As he rode up the winding path to the city, all was quiet. Not a soul could be seen except the birds and a rabbit or two as the serene countryside, sloped upward, thick with growth. It had become apparent that the path had swung far around and now as it neared, he could see he would enter on the southern side of the city. He came to a clearing, before a steep hill. The sky was clear and the afternoon sun peaceful; they dispelled some of the fierce intimidation Sammy had felt upon his first sight of the city. Yet the towers still loomed high, in bold command and again he had a feeling of eyes upon him. And all around the city, stood a great wall, massive in size with solid security as it crowned the hill. Tall trees were scattered about and a mighty gate stood at the top of the path with two guards standing alert, seemingly oblivious to his approach. As the approach became steeper, he stopped and dismounted. Strider whinnied as he sensed Sammy's nervous anticipation. Slowly they climbed, thankful it was not too steep and he wondered if the guards were going to be friendly or as intimidating as they looked.

Suddenly a great rustle startled Sammy and the horses, as a great bird took flight from a nearby tree! It happened so fast that he barely got a glimpse of the bird as most of his attention was drawn into holding and settling the horses. But he could have sworn it was massive in size, much larger than he was! He drew an enormous breath and looked all around to see if it would return. He had visions of being carried away and shuttered at that thought. All was silent, the leaves gently rustled as the wind kissed the tops of the trees. He gathered his wits and proceeded.

The guards stood rigid and had not moved a bit although they had to have seen what had happened. It made Sammy wonder if this was a normal occurrence. His heart pounded as he reached within a grasp of the tall guards.

"Good afternoon," He said and then introduced himself. "I am Samwise Geren Baggins, son of Frodo, friend to Lord Imrahil. May I request audience with the Prince, to bring news of my father?"

The guards paused and looked at each other as a trace of recognition crossed their eyes. Without question or words, they lead him through a long wooded path to a large yard near the back of the castle.

To the west of the yard was a low wall, built of rugged white rock that wound its way from the immense buildings, down to the south, disappearing into the thickets of the woods. The path crossed the yard to within feet of the wall and as Sammy looked out he could see the sheer drop to the ocean. Far below, its waves angrily pounded the huge black rocks. Sammy was overwhelmed with how loud the waves were. The whole scene would have given him the impulse to gasp had it not been for his fear.

One guard took the horses to a large barn and the other lead Sammy through another gate into a great courtyard. Sammy looked nervously around, at the brilliantly colored yard, trimmed and neat, as new blossoms burst from trees of which he had never seen before. There was a man sitting on a bench near a fountain, a look of tired boredom about his face. But at the sight of this halfling approaching, he brightened and stood revealing his tall stature; even taller than the men of Edhellond.

Sammy felt extremely intimidated, and bowed nervously as the guard announced him as Master Baggins. He informed the man that his visitor was seeking Lord Imrahil.

A look of curiosity covered the man's deep grey eyes and he replied gently, "I am Erchirion, son of Imrahil. My Father is no longer with us. He passed away close to twenty five years ago.'

Sammy's face fell in disappointment and condolence.

Noting his reaction the man asked, "Where do you come from and why is it you seek him? I have heard the name Baggins before. Are you in relation to Frodo Baggins?"

Sammy stammered, "I…I am truly sorry to hear that about your father my Lord. I am Samwise Geren Baggins, _son_ of Frodo of whom your father once knew."

Erchirion's eyes widened, for the name of Frodo held prominence through the words that had long ago, been spoken by his father. He smiled broadly at Sammy, "Welcome Samwise Geren Baggins! My Father told us much about the gentle little Hobbit that so wondrously accomplished the impossible! Tell me, where _is _your Father? I thought I had heard that he had sailed into the undying lands!"

Sammy smiled in return, but before he could answer Erchirion said, "Ah, where are my manners! Come inside where it is much more comfortable and we can sit with drink."

He led Sammy up some stone steps, across a vast patio and into a large sunroom. As they walked he continued to speak, "My brothers Prince Elphir and Amrothos are visiting the King at Minas Tirith. King Eomer of Rohan and his Queen, my sister Lothíriel are to meet with them as they return from holiday at Ithilien. Many have gathered for reunion with King Elessar and his Queen, the Lady Arwen. Of course I stayed behind to attend things here in my brother's absence."

Sammy's emotions were fluid, flowing from anxiety, to disappointment to sadness. But now he felt excitement with this news; that so many of the faces of tales would be in one place at one time. Deep inside he wished his parents could be there also for 'reunion'.

"This is wonderful news, my Lord!" said Sammy. "I had planned to set out for the White City this evening."

Erchirion's eyes widened as he quickly insisted, "But you are already weary from travel. I must insist that you stay, at least the night. You are most welcome!"

Sammy smiled in acceptance as they settled upon a long sofa that arched around a hard wooden frame. It was stuffed with a soft fabric that Sammy had never seen; deep red and embroidered with a bright yellow thread that seemed as fine as baby's hair, and just as soft. There were tables scattered around the room, in different sizes and Sammy noted that they were all stained in the same color; a rich golden brown so soft that it shimmered. Each table was laden with various size bouquets of rich vibrant flowers and a bowl of fruit sat before him, fresh and colorful, making the little Hobbit's mouth water in anticipation of its juices.

A servant appeared, proper and tall, as tall as Erchirion. He placed a tray upon the table and poured a yellow tea scented with cloves and as the aroma reached Sammy's nostrils, he inhaled with a sigh. They sipped their tea with much conversation as Sammy explained all that had come about for Frodo. Then Erchirion filled him in on life's tidings as it had unfolded at Dol Amroth since the end of the war of the Ring.

Erchirion was truly amazed at the bravery of this young halfling. Chancing the long lonely voyage at sea alone, giving up immortality to live among strangers in a strange land. But to Sammy's mind, no one could understand the excitement of the adventure he had before him. And it eased his mind a little of his fears as this kind soul expressed his respect. They dined then retired early that night in the comforts that a great castle could offer. And once again, Sammy planned to arise early for departure, feeling very anxious to meet the faces of tales he had admired so deeply.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

**A Prayer for Erebwen**

It was not yet dawn, the quiet of the morning lingering in the hallways. Sammy awoke with a start, feeling as though he were being touched. He felt strokes upon his cheeks, whispers along his arms, and a pulling at his legs. He lay still for a moment a gasp on the verge, but it stopped. He waited, wondering if it had only been a dream. Quiet it was, so quiet he could almost hear his heartbeat. Then he shook it off, convincing himself, "Yes, it was only a dream."

He climbed out of the bed, and dressed; pulling on his trousers and then his white shirt, getting lost in thought halfway through the buttons. He went over to the basin and poured some water from an elegant pitcher, crafted from seashell. The water was cold as he washed his face and when he dried it he suddenly felt a stroke upon his chest. His first reflex was to dry his chest with the towel, thinking it was the water that dripped from his face, but he found it did not feel wet. He laid the towel down as his gaze was drawn down into the bowl. He saw a reflection quickly pass over it and he got the sensation someone was behind him! He turned around in a whirl, but there was no one there! His door to the hallway was slightly open, softly swaying in some otherwise unfelt breeze.

He flew to the door and threw it back, but there was no one, nothing in the hallway; just the looming quiet and the darkness of the grey time before dawn. Slowly, he sauntered down the hall looking at each doorway, listening for the slightest sound. Silence continued to hush through the hall, each door stood closed as though the wood also slept in soft golden slumbers. He reached the end; his heart began to pull him, guiding him round the corner. Up a narrow stairway he climbed, higher and higher; up a great round column, in circles that seemed would never end. All that could be heard was the soft urgency of his panting. He reached the top and found a door with soft yellow light slipping through the hinges. Curiosity drew him, and he forgot his fear for a moment as he knocked gently.

"You may enter" a soft voice called, its sound reviving his fear.

She was standing by the window looking out as if she were waiting for something, or someone. When she turned to face him an overwhelming sensation of time and history pierced his soul. Immediately Sammy knew these were the eyes that he had felt ever since he sailed into the harbor. Lonely they felt and evil though it seemed not to come from within her; but as a shadow of her essence, greying the edges of her being. As her eyes penetrated his, he perceived they were aqua blue as the sea and as deep as its depths. Her smile was slightly melancholic, although she tried to make it pleasant.

"You came from Aman, didn't you?" She said in a voice sultry and mature. She approached him, her eyes never leaving his and it unsettled Sammy so severely he hesitated unable to answer. "I saw you on that ship, sailing into the harbor. I have felt your presence. It is unlike any other. You are Peredhil, are you not?"

Sammy felt his cheeks redden and he didn't quite understand why. "I am," he answered a little reservedly, surprising himself.

She stopped smiling and breathlessly spoke on, "You are not of the east. I can see the light of the Valar in your eyes. But you have chosen the gift."

Sammy replied, "You seem to know all about me and yet it seems you seek my service." Caution entered his voice, "What may I do for you, my Lady?"

She laughed gently and sweetly, but bitterness escaped into the tone. "I simply wish to know my fate. Long have I lingered here, the elves are now all leaving. Should _I _go?"

She walked behind him and stroked his back gently, sensually. Sammy felt his skin tighten as if her touch was stressful. He didn't quite know what to say, or how to react. She was beautiful, yet uncomely in her mood. Her jet black hair, matted, tussled and in disarray gave her the look of leisure and uncaring. There was an air about her that drew him and he found himself longing to hold her in comfort though it seemed an unnatural and invading desire. Yet he stood firm, unable to move for within him he felt a loss of control as though a scent of evil had taken hold of him. Confusion filled him as a mingling of wills surrounded them.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "Why do you seek my counsel on such a crucial decision? I can not advise the destiny of your heart."

"No," she said, the melancholy returning. "No, you can not. Long I have lingered here."

She had circled around to his front now, slowly, still touching him, her fingers gliding around his shoulder and onto his chest. Her touch burned softly as though a touch of ember resided in her fingertip. Sammy's skin tensed further as her eyes again, met his.

A rosy blush covered her cheeks slightly as she said, "I am Mithrellas, though now they call me…" her voice turned to sadness, "… Erebwen"

Sammy's mind searched, he knew the first name, but in the moment memory would not come to him. He felt her sadness deeply as the second name brought him understanding. 'Lonely Maiden' she was, in his Mother's tongue, as the Colters spoke. She knelt down in front of him coming face to face, with longing in her eyes. Gently she leaned in and placed her lips upon his forehead so softly it was as though he was being brushed with a feather. Heat seared through his body, as he felt his mind open to her; a sharing he had never felt before. He had no power to fight it, nor the desire, although he felt as though it held evil. But stronger than the evil was the presence of a song. And its wordless melodies were of good and heart wrenching sorrow. A gathering of memory swirled in his thought, and craving pulled at his knowledge; it was seeking the truth of his life in his birth home.

Suddenly the door opened and Erchirion entered; his face showed great alarm. "Mithrellas, why do you trouble our guest?"

Mithrellas stood up, cowering as great fear shuddered through her body. She quickly slipped behind the thick curtain that hung from the window and Sammy could see it shake as she trembled. He took one step towards her, but Erchirion took hold of his arm.

"I am very sorry, Master Baggins." He said. "Come, we must leave her." Sammy hesitated, unsure whether leaving was the right thing to do. Erchirion again pleaded as though he himself felt fear, "Come, Master Baggins."

As they turned to leave suddenly a bold and defiant voice came from her, "I know of where he has come!" Desperation resounded in her voice. "Tell me, please. Why did you leave? Is it not beautiful there?" Eyes peered out of the curtains, fraught with panic.

"Wait," said Sammy, feeling the need to answer. He turned and took several steps closer to her. "Aman is very exquisite if that word does it justice; a land of peace and majesty beyond the bounds of the mind. Aman is a land of healing. I left because I did not belong. I am a Hobbit. My eyes were ever drawn to the east and though parting was painful, I had to follow my heart."

Relief embraced her eyes and a smile settled upon new tears. Then as if broken from a spell, Sammy's mind opened and he remembered the name, Mithrellas. It was from one of the stories, told long ago as his little brother Bilbo was delving into history. They were in Avalonnë visiting Galadriel. There was a festival planned for the evening and Bilbo had been questioning her in preparation for a narrative he planned to perform. Sammy sat with Bilbo, as she told them the tale of Nimrodel and of Amroth the Elven King of Lothlórien. The King had fallen in love with the elven maiden and had gone ahead to the southern shores to prepare the way for their departure over the sea to the Undying Lands. Nimrodel was to join him, and with many elves, journeyed far through the wild lands, but they were lost on the way, disappearing into fate unknown. Amroth waited many a day upon the ship at harbor, but a wind took him in sorrow and in his desperation to get back to her, he perished in the stormy seas.

The story went on to tell how one of Nimrodel's companions, Mithrellas, a Silvan Elf that had been found in the woods, was taken to wife by Imrazôr, a Númenórean who dwelt in Belfalas. She bore him a son and a daughter and then disappeared one night slipping away unnoticed, never to be seen again.

Now, Sammy almost gasped as the reality of her existence became apparent.

He felt no fear in speaking his heart, "They said you left. Never to be seen again, yet you are here all these long years!"

A soft laughter could be heard through her tears as though he had discovered a little secret. Its evil could be felt and once again Mithrellas cowered.

Erchirion became insistent. "Come, Master Baggins, we must leave her."

Sammy left the room behind Erchirion and as he closed the door behind him, they heard the lock click and the soft laughter began again.

Erchirion sighed, "I am truly sorry my friend, for this episode. She has never done anything like this before. She is always in hiding especially when guests are present. Come, let me get you some breakfast and I will explain."

Sammy was led to a large balcony, and placed before a small table laden with sweet bread and peaches. Tall torches stood in each corner boldly dancing in the breeze, providing their light for the sun had barely begun to awaken the clouds behind the castle to the east. Erchirion offered him a chair and then poured his tea. The sound of the waves pounded the rock below as the ocean brought intensity to the mood. The man was clearly embarrassed by the encounter with Mithrellas and he apologized many times.

"You see," he said with soft murmur, "she clearly is troubled and needs healing. My family and the elves of Edhellond have often tried to convince her to take a ship to the Undying Lands." He sighed, "An evil poison has hold of her and she will not let us get too near. She wallows in loneliness, always in hiding. I don't think I have seen her more than, maybe fives times in my life. You know, I also feel her fear of the unknown holds her back. I was glad to hear you say positive things about the west, although I was a little bit worried there for a moment. I had wondered about _why_ you left Aman, in our conversation last night. I am sorry to invade your privacy. I know it was a personal thing for her to ask, though it was good for her to hear the things that you said."

Sammy was clearly shaken by the encounter, but mostly out of pity for Mithrellas. "Well, I am happy to help, but I am not sure if I did. What happened to her my Lord?"

Erchirion sighed deeply again, "Well, it is a sad story. She came from the land of Lorien. My ancestor Imrazôr found her in the woods, lost, hungry and wounded with no real memory of what had happened. She knew who she was and knew her past up until the attack. She had set out for Belfalas with Nimrodel and many elves to take ship to Aman with Amroth. But they were waylaid by a pack of Orcs and from that point she has no memory. Imrazôr took pity on her and brought her back here where he nursed her back to health as best as he could. In the process he fell in love with her, taking her as his wife. She mended well physically, but the mental anguish she suffered never healed as if the poison slowly melded into her mind. Her manor grew fearsome and troubled. She gave birth to two children, Galador and Gilmith but took no hand in raising them. Life became too difficult for her and suddenly she disappeared, not to be seen again for many long years."

Erchirion stopped a moment to reflect and sip his tea. Sammy sighed in sadness, thinking about the devastation of so many lives by the hands of the Orcs and the evil of Sauron. And way in the back of his mind he dared to wonder what had happened to stop this elf from laying herself down, to enter the Halls of Mandos for sweet sleep in relief.

Erchirion continued, "It was long after the death of Imrazôr when she returned and Galador, their son, had become Lord of Dol Amroth. She was like a frightened child, fearsome and paranoid. He took his Mother in out of love; learning that she had existed solitary and lonely in the woods for many years. She has never been capable of expressing why she left or what it is that frightens her so; it is assumed her mind has been taken by the evil poison, consumed in gentle madness."

He said these last words with a quiver in his voice and pity mingled with fear as it poured from his eyes. Sammy sat stunned as Erchirion continued. "She has lived on with love from our family for many generations; a recluse, preferring the peaceful and quiet solitude of the tower you found her in. She never speaks to any of us and when we try to coax her out she just burrows in deeper in tragic fear. Out of respect, we speak of her to no one and we leave her alone; placing her food and clothing on her doorstep. But now I fear for her. As she told you, the elves are all leaving this land. If she does not go soon, she will be doomed to this life -fading slowly and bitterly from existence."

They sat quietly for a while as Sammy reflected on his words and Erchirion stared off into the waters. Morning light slowly crept in around them and the cawing of a bird flying over head brought Sammy back to the present. He then politely excused himself to prepare for his journey. The tugging within his heart for the faces of tales stirred his anxiety, though now a sense of need began to tear him in two and he was not sure if he should leave so soon. He felt a sense of responsibility to stay and approach Mithrellas again. What he would say, he did not know. But he knew his presence had stirred turmoil within her and his task, though unknown to him, was unfinished.

He entered his room and began to gather his things. Debate argued in his mind as he packed and frustration grew burdensome as he struggled to make a decision. He picked up the towel near the basin and wringed it with thought, "What do I say? Dear Eru, what do I say?"

Suddenly a song came into his thoughts as a white wave; filling his heart with overwhelming urgency! He threw down the towel and slipped through his door. Down the hallway, he made his way quickly with echoing in his mind. Up the stairs he went as the song flowed through his thoughts in exigency! He reached her door and softly tapped. All was quiet, not a sound came from within.

"Mithrellas," he called softly, "Mithrellas."

A soft hum sweetened the air as he began to sing and his tenor notes flowed smooth in intricate breath. Sammy's face blazoned red as tears moistened his lashes and all of his heart flowed through the music as if it was guided by a power foreign to his soul. And though the emotion of the song was heavy and intense, lightheartedness came over him as though a great victory over evil had occurred! And when all had been sung and the last sigh left his lips, he collapsed to his knees and leaned his face against the door, as his peaceful tears kissed the wood.

Later that morning as the sun began to smile broadly above the horizon, a little Hobbit rode from Dol Amroth with the greyness of the clouds dissolving in peaceful sighs within his heart. And as he rode a whisper of a prayer brushed his lips, for Erebwen.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

**The Faces of Tales**

Sammy rode swiftly over the rocky hills of Tarnost and by the second day he had begun to cross the dry plains of Dor-en-Ernil. The morning sun had already begun to swelter and he, as well as the horses felt anxious for the fresh water from the rivers ahead. Many times he whispered thanks into the dry air for the fine elvish cloak that covered his head and body, and the thick fur on his feet, both of which his father had given him. For without them, he surely would have been scorched. He had never seen such arid land and he marveled that any plant life could survive. Yellow grasses swayed in the slight breeze and short, bushy cedar trees dotted the dry land. They were quite green however, in spite of the soil that was a light yellowish powder; sucked dry with a salty taste as it covered Sammy's tongue with every breath. After several hour's ride, he could now see far in the horizon a green line that indicated the westernmost river promised cool refreshment and before that a grey line carved the land indicating that there was a road. However, by dusk he estimated it would take at least another day to reach it and though he was anxious to continue on, they could not go any further without great discomfort. The horses began to blow and snort and Sammy's own throat felt sticky and parched. There was nothing for it, they would have to stop and rest. Wearily Sammy climbed down from Strider, feeling as though every ounce of his energy had evaporated into the air. He pulled on the large pouch that hung on Evenstar's side; it was water for the horses, provided by Erchirion. It fell to the ground with a slosh as it proved far too heavy for Sammy to handle. However, it was made well and the seal held to his relief. With a slight whistle between his teeth, Evenstar obeyed his command and stepped over to the bag to immediately stick her nose in. Sammy stroked her face as she drank and he cooed softly, singing loving apologies to the lovely beast as he noted the sweat that frothed on her sides. Next, Strider ambled over and had his fill of the water and sweet talk while Sammy patiently held the bag open. Finally it was empty and now it was Sammy's turn; he pulled his own pouch from his waist belt and drank heavily with thankful relief, although the water was quite warm. He removed his cloak and poured a small amount onto the hood, and then he placed it back on his head with a sigh, it felt so wonderful. It was just the thing he needed before settling down to a light supper and a long, deep sleep. 

That night he dreamt about swimming with his mother and family. The ocean water had always been inviting as the heat on the Isle of Tol Eressëa also sometimes reached high temperatures. The moist air with the heat was pretty uncomfortable sometimes, but it did not compare to the dry discomfort of this land. The next morning, he awoke feeling very glad to be heading to the northern lands his parents had described.

By late afternoon the next day, Sammy reached the road where he found a small village clustered in a half circle around the salty sea haven of Linhir. It was divided by the meeting of the harbor and two small rivers; the Gilrain and the Serni. Green grasses and lovely flowers grew thickly around the riversides but the most pleasant site of all for Sammy was the trees. There were many of them, of all varieties; some like those at Dol Amroth, bursting in floral beauty with pink and white blossoms and others evergreen with tiny blue berries. And the scents they gave were gloriously sweet, yet not overpowering; subtle and soothing like in the serene gardens of Avallónë. The occupants of the village appeared to be men, he observed as he scampered over the bridges with a wave. But he could not bring himself to stop, for his excitement in reaching his destination was ever growing and his shyness not wholly cured. Many stopped and watched him ride by, mouths agape and a few returned his wave with a smile at the little one on the big horses. As he departed the eastern side of the village, he found the great road that seemed to be well maintained just as it had appeared on his map. But the land returned to the sweltering dryness that had brought him suffering on the previous days. Torn between the urgency he felt to get to Minas Tirith and the dread of the sweltering heat, he finally relented and altered his plans a bit. With hesitation he turned south of the rode and headed across the plains; for straight ahead, on the green horizon was the great Anduin! His heart pounded in anticipation as visions of cool waters and vast shade providing trees drew him. And memory of his mother kissed his thoughts as he envisioned her swimming in the mighty river. He reached the riverside by early dusk as the sun settled into pink and blue behind him and the birds settled down on the tree tops. The countryside again, was very different than any he had ever seen and as he prepared his camp, he took the time to soak it in. He marveled at the variety of the different plants, all in early spring bloom, but it was the water that drew his attention as the past sweltering days lay heavily on his body. It flowed brown and powerful giving him the sensation of great depth but the coolness drew him and though it had begun to get dark, he could not resist a little dip. He took a deep breath, and plunged into the water, being careful not to get too far out, for the current was quite swift. He gasped at the coolness in heavy relief and kept a toe hold on the mud, thankful that it was quite sticky, like heavy clay. But he did not linger, for exhaustion soon settled in, after the long ride in the heat. Once again, supper was light and sleep was deep and filled with dreams of wet memories in the waters of Aman. The next morning he awoke achy and sore. He spent some time stretching his muscles and twisting his back, all along holding thoughts of the disadvantages of mortality. But he accepted them all the same as his excitement of things to come tickled his heart. Soon he was off again riding hard although the path was now more difficult through the bosk along the river's edge. 

It was early afternoon on the second day of riding that he came upon the crossroads where the South road had dipped down to touch the Anduin and the Harad Road met with the River Sirith. Again he came upon a cluster of a settlement however too small to even name. And once again he did not stop, but he rode on with a smile and a wave as the anxiety simmered within him.

He knew he could save an entire day's ride or maybe more if he clung to the South road. But the river now had him under his spell, for the heat had not subsided although his path drew north. So on he clambered through the thickets and trees singing songs of their loveliness and inhaling the scents of spring.

Two days later he reached a fork where another river, the Erui, joined with the mighty Anduin. He had forgotten about this river and now he suddenly grew unsure of himself and his navigation skills. Evenstar sensed his hesitation and pulled on her bridal in attempts to reach a sweet patch of grass that grew between the sunny spots and the shades of the Mulberry leaves. Sammy chuckled and dismounted, leaving the horses to forage and to take the opportunity to study his map. He sat down against a large tree, spread his map across his lap and nibbled on the last chunk of the sweet bread that Erchirion had given him. He wasn't really hungry yet, but he thought it might hold him until supper and he would thus gain the little bit of time by not stopping for his midday meal. The map gently rippled in the breeze as he studied and it was as he remembered; this little river bent sharply to the northwest leading straight to the South Road. His impatience now broke the spell with the time it was taking to traverse the woods and as he drew north, he thought the heat would lesson just a bit; so once again he changed his plans and decided to head for the road. He would still have a river to hug for awhile anyway, and he could take advantage of it with occasional dips and plenty of drink. He laid his head back against the tree as he nibbled on the last bite and grew deep in thought about what it would be like in Minas Tirith. How he longed for the comforts of the city that held his dreams and the people he had admired all his life. Then without meaning to, he let his daydreams take him and he drifted into a light sleep.

Asleep only for a few moments, he awoke with a start, and upon awaking he was startled again by the sight of a great bird! Sitting on a large broken log, just 20 paces away, was the bird he saw at Dol Amroth; he was sure of it! It was larger than any he had ever seen, in fact larger than _he_ was! The bird's plumage was golden brown, and he had soft white feathers underneath, that ruffled in the cool wind. His eyes, black and glossy seemed to see deep. Sammy laid still, their eyes locked upon each other and an unspoken understanding filled his heart as if the bird was saying, _"I know you". _

Sammy smiled and slowly stood up. The bird cocked his head as if in approval and stayed in place as the little one went about packing his things. He couldn't help but look at the bird with the passing of every moment or two and he even laughed a little at how the bird nodded at him once or twice. Finally it was time to leave. Sammy yearned to stay and sit with the bird for a while longer, as though he thought that conversation would erupt. But he knew it would take him two days to get to the city and the thought of the 'reunion' tugged at his heart. He stood before the bird, unsure of what to do. Then with a wink and a bow he said, "Well farewell, my friend. You have given me good company on this fine day and now I shall have to leave you." Then to his astonishment, the bird nodded again. And with a wink in return, he flew away; his massive body creating a rush of wind as he flew over the little hobbit's head. It was such an intriguing experience for Sammy; the impact of it would never leave his memory for all of his days. For he knew in that moment, that it was Gwaihir, the bird that had carried his father to safety out of the lands of fire and destruction; out of Mordor! Traversing the terrain along the smaller river proved to be far more difficult than Sammy had imagined. The trees grew few and the land was rocky with many gaps and drops that had to be avoided. Strider and Evenstar let out a grumbling whinny every once in a while letting their master know that they were unhappy with the situation. By late afternoon, all three were covered in sweat and weary of the trek. There was nothing for it; once again they needed rest and refreshment. 

Sammy managed to find a small tree with just barely enough shade for the horses, though luckily enough, it was also near the water so they could get their fill. And a small thicket of green grass had grown outside of the southern edge of the tree in glorious convenience for the horses.

The little Hobbit plunged into the water with a gasp of surprise, for it was much colder than the Anduin. He had forgotten that it flowed down from the top of the massive Mount Mindolluin where it was fed by the snows of that winter. It was deep, and the waters flowed with much more vigor, so Sammy was extra careful to stay out of the center, instead clinging to the great rocks that had settled near the edge.

He lingered for just a moment with thoughts of moving on quickly now that he was cold and wet, when suddenly to his surprised a great wind gushed by and a pull on his foot dunked him under, making him loose his center of balance! Desperately he struggled to right himself but the cold froth of the water obscured his sense of direction! Then suddenly just as he thought his lungs would burst, he broke through with a gasp, but the water swirled around him and he found himself being carried swiftly down the river, hitting rocks and tangling with the snarling plant life that grew underneath! And all along he heard in hidden whispers among the ire of the froth a sinister laugh that chilled his bones. It sneered at Sammy with thoughts of disdain for his choice and it revealed mourning for the elves of Coivinya. But most of all it exposed an ominous love for violence and Sammy was sure it was to be his end. He fought and struggled with all his might as his own ire built up in his mouth with a taste he had never known! He would not be taken easily, he demanded but as he put forth all of his effort, it was fruitless, for the might of the river was far too strong for the little one.

Sammy was near the end of his strength and in his thoughts was about to give in –a mortal failure at all that he had aspired in life, utterly shamed that he had brought all that pain upon his loved ones…all for naught. Wearily he thrust the last of his strength and resolve to grasp at a passing boulder in the froth, but it slipped out of his hands just as the others did and to lay a final blow, the water swirled him around and he banged his head with a thud against the side –and he knew no more.

Sammy awoke with a pumping, squeezing sensation around his chest and waist as water came bursting through his teeth in a gush as his lungs vomited the vile water of the river. Then he discovered he was flying through the air, high above the river with the wind chilling his wet body and blowing so hard he could barely open his eyes. But through his lashes he could make out a haze of white softness above him, and he knew he was being carried by the great bird!

Gwaihir laid the little Hobbit down gently upon a large rock in the warm sun and flew away before Sammy had a chance to say or do anything. Strider ambled over in concern and nudged his exhausted master with anxiety. Bruised and scratched, Sammy lay back upon the rock gasping as many tears of relief slipped into his hair. He had always realized that his decision would not be accepted by all, but this experience only strengthened his resolve. He knew in his heart that his decision was the right one and with gritted teeth he said aloud, "You shall not take me, Ossë! I am not yours!"

Sammy's journey continued in pain, though it was peaceful and as he drew north, the temperatures dropped to a much more comfortable level. He reached the gates of the city two days later, somewhat healed and now his adrenaline began to flow. It was beautiful in the early spring twilight and he sighed in awe as he approached it. Round and round its streets swirled in intricate beauty until it burst into a commanding tower, white and proud against the massive rock of Mindolluin that stood high in the majesty of the Gondorian heritage. The gates were swung wide, open arms in this time of peace. Shadow had crept across the cobblestone streets as the sun began making its gentle descent upon the horizon. The streets were near empty as most were inside attending to their evening meals. And as the little Hobbit wound his way up the streets to the top, an occasional look would be cast his way and the few people still out of doors would stop and watch. The rare sight of any halfling was a wondrous sight to see given the history that bestowed this land. And the sight of Sammy made some run inside to gather others.

Once, he heard someone call out behind him, "It is Frodo! Hail Frodo!" He waved, but he kept going with a smile on his face -his heart was pounding!

He reached the gate to the Citadel and dismounted. The guard stepped out of the gatehouse, his eyes widening as he approached. Sammy began to offer introduction, "Good day Sir, I am…"

But the guard interrupted him crying, "He will be most delighted to see you, my Lord! Come, I shall announce you right away!"

"No don't!" called Sammy drawing the guard back. "I would like to surprise him. Please. You may escort me if you wish."

The guard beamed and handed the horses over to a young lad that had been watching from the door of the gatehouse. He commanded they be stabled and fed, then led Sammy inside, through the courtyard to the citadel. Sammy was astounded at the sight of the massive white tree he had heard so much about in tales. It was heavily laden with fragrant blossoms and had grown so thick at the base it almost took over the fountain it resided near.

They entered the hall and Sammy awed at the tall black pillars, the height of the ceiling, the marble, the beauty of the room. As he walked, he eyed the faces of the Kings of old and marveled at the history that had taken place in this very room. Looking up at the throne, his thought turned to Aragorn and his father's tales of this place echoed in his mind.

They reached a great dining room and as he entered, Sammy's heart began pounding ever harder. There were many people sitting around a large table. Those that were facing the door, was a man, kingly and proud, an elegant elf with wide brown eyes, two young ladies blossoming in beauty and a handsome young man. As Sammy entered they looked up. The King's eyes grew wide as he dropped a fork with a clang. He slowly stood up, disbelief on his face and it so alarmed everyone else they all turned to see what it was that he was staring at. The lady sitting next to him began smiling; her eyes glistened in the light as her beauty stirred Sammy's heart. Seconds passed, the room was silent; they all were in shock as they pondered whether their eyes were deceiving them.

Finally the man slowly approached Sammy and said, "Frodo? I can not believe my eyes, is it really you?"

Sammy smiled and blushed, bowing low and said, "No Sire, my name is Samwise Geren Baggins, _son_ of Frodo."

He knew the man from first sight. It was Strider; Aragorn; the King Elessar! None other than the true friend and hero his father had spoken of so fondly! His heart fiercely rocked his body!

The King immediately took hold of him, in a gentle, respectful hug; laughing as his eyes began to moisten. "Son of Frodo!" he shouted and the others gathered around laughing and crying in wonder at this little halfling.

There was tender commotion for a few moments. Sammy's face was flush with excitement. His hands passed from grasp to grasp. Laughter and glee echoed through the hall. Then composure gently settled upon them and he received proper introductions.

Aragorn spoke proudly in quaking voice, "Master Baggins, I present to you Eomer, King of Rohan, and his Queen Lothíriel."

Sammy bowed properly as Eomer grasped his hands and beamed, "It is a pleasure, Master Baggins!" Sammy then kissed the hand of the fair Queen and noted her resemblance with Erchirion.

Eomer then turned and introduced his wife's brothers, Prince Elphir and Amrothos. Sammy's thoughts turned momentarily to Mithrellas as he shook their hands and he could see their family resemblance with Erchirion as well.

"I have just come from Dol Amroth, where I much enjoyed the hospitality of your brother." He told them as they smiled broadly and cried, "Wonderful!" Something in Prince Elphir's eyes drew curiosity for Sammy, and he realized in that moment that his eyes held a deep sadness about them -but he was immediately distracted from that thought as Aragorn took his arm.

The King then introduced Legolas of Mirkwood. The Prince smiled warmly, laid his hand upon his heart and bowed as Sammy also did. No words were spoken as their eyes glistened in contact. A gentle nod sealed the elvish greeting and Sammy turned to meet the first Dwarf he had ever seen.

Gimli became so overjoyed at the introduction that he took Sammy into a great hug and squeezed him a little too hard. Sammy let out a small grunt and then blushed as giggles tickled the room.

Next Aragorn introduced Lord Faramir and his Lady Eowyn. Sammy's heart fluttered as he remembered the renown that Eowyn wore with his parents. He could hardly take his eyes off of her. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind. And his mind whirled with the details of his father's meeting with this gentle man, Faramir. The couple graciously shook his hands and smiled warmly through kind words. Sammy took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he turned for the next introduction.

Aragorn continued, "These are my children. Eldarion…" He was young and strikingly handsome. So much like his father, yet with eyes that told of the vast heritage he held on his mother's side. And Sammy could see the makings of a king with his manner and stature. The young man bowed graciously as his father continued, "…my daughters, Ellëwen and Eáven." Fair but very young, they held promise in their blossoming. Sammy bowed politely noting the elegance and beauty they hid behind amused faces.

"Lady Aredhel," continued Aragorn warmly. Sammy noted the loveliness in the Lady's eyes, yet he sensed an air about her that told of a long life with determined resolve. And as he lightly kissed her hand, he delighted to find another elf in the house of Gondor.

He turned again to Aragorn anticipating the one he knew he was saving for last. Last but certainly not least. She stood back from everyone as the introductions unfolded, but her presence held a small corner of Sammy's mind the entire time.

"And finally, Master Baggins," Aragorn said, his voice as entranced as Sammy felt. "I present my Queen. Arwen Undomiel."

So beautiful was she, that Sammy could barely speak words in her presence. He thought of his sister's creation and immediately he realized the insignificance that glorious statue was in comparison. His emotions fiercely rocked him as he stood before her. The reverence he felt for this elf was without words, for it was by the gift of her grace that his father was able to cross to Aman.

He thought about the jewel she had given, and how it was passed on to her mother, Celebrian. He thought about the letters. He wanted so badly to tell her about both. But for the moment, words would not come. He stared in awe, as she offered her hand and then he closed his eyes softly as he kissed it.

Arwen smiled sweetly to him and with thoughts of little Meli, she whispered "Welcome, little Peredhil". He looked up at her quickly, not for her words, but a feeling inside. And he felt that she understood him and all that he had done and felt; completely. He bowed in reverence.

They made a seat for him at the table next to the King, but he could barely eat for the excitement was exhilarating and the conversation enticing as they responded to his account of his voyage across the sea.

Eventually they removed themselves to a parlor where a great fire blazoned in the hearth. There were cushion chairs, made of soft velvet, placed perfectly for good talk and hearty laughter. Candelabras flickered gently and the scent of lilacs filled the air.

Sammy began speaking first of Frodo and all that had come of his life since boarding the white ship –though he mentioned not the spell, or his parent's suffering. He spoke of Gandalf, and told how he had become family. Gandalf's hand in helping to raise Sammy became evident as he told the stories of his life with the wizard. Memories of fond moments with Gandalf came to each and every one of those who knew him. And Sammy could see the sparkle in Legolas' eyes as he lovingly reflected on the old wizard's grumpiness.

They delighted in all of Frodo's children, as Sammy described them. Lady Eowyn blushed in wonder at the fact that her name held such honor in Frodo and Meli's heart; to name one of their children as her namesake flattered her. She smiled brightly in learning of little Eowyn's talents and pondered adoringly in her thoughts. "What would a little girl who resembled her cousin Pippin look like?"

Laughter filled the room as Sammy recounted a few of the antics of the twins. He then described with admiration the talents of his little brother Bilbo, and they all wished for the opportunity to meet them.

The room grew quiet for a moment as that wish gently kissed their desires when suddenly Aragorn spoke with pain and aching in his voice, "Oh, the evils that Sauron spilled upon the earth –oh, the iniquity, the injustice that infected his servants with purpose to spread his horror!"

Everyone looked at him in shock for the unexpected change of mood.

He continued, now with woeful sadness, "I am haunted by the vile poison that entered your father's heart that night on Weathertop." He stood and approached Sammy, then kneeled down and placed his hand upon his shoulder and now hope saturated his breathless query, "I pray that the very presence of you, dear Sammy and those of your siblings, present evidence that he found healing in Aman!"

A tear glistened in the corner of Arwen's beautiful brown eyes and her thought turned to Meli.

Then Eowyn cried out, "And of your Mother! Pray tell us, that she, too, found healing!" For in the whispers of the halls long ago in Minas Tirith, news of the spell had come to all.

The room was deadly silent, save a sniffle here and there. Sammy had not expected to reveal the spell…well at least not so suddenly. His mood had been merry and the meeting of these grand people, wondrous to his joy! But now, a painful tale must be told, for he could see it was needed to ease the pain that had long stewed within these hearts. He could see that the happy ending would need to be told first, and that the rest would have to begin in the beginning for some.

"I hardly know where to begin," he said with a sigh. Then he smiled sweetly and said, "Except, to say yes; I suppose you could call it healing. They have found easement from their pains, though it was not swift, or complete. As you know, the evil that touched them was very heavy, but the pains are softened by their love and the day to day life that has met them in that great land. In time it has been forgotten and ignored to the point that, yes, you could say they are healed. However, we do not know what will happen in the end –even the Vala have not the foresight to see Eru's designs if he so chooses not to reveal them. We suspect he has very good reason and all have come to accept it through the warmth and gentle teachings of Gandalf."

Sammy noted the relief on some faces, but the confusion on others. So he began again and told his Mother's story in full. And in the telling they all, including Sammy, realized how these lives had mingled and impacted each other's. With this they marveled at how fate fell. It astonished them that a different race of elves had existed so long, unknown to all. Grievous they were in learning of the fall of Carasdolen. And they grieved more in learning of the pain and suffering that the Colters had to endure in slavery.

Aragorn sat in silent reflection as Sammy recounted those days. His memory held frustration at how the Rangers and the elves had scoured the lands surrounding Carasdolen, in search of the missing tiny elves. But what he had taken hardest to heart was the fact that prior to their disappearance, he had not protected them.

He interrupted Sammy to say, "The Rangers might have prevented it had we known of their existence" he reflected sorrowfully -his eyes fixed on the flames in the hearth. "Gandalf had us protect the Shire. Why not that land also?"

"Do not despair over that which is past my Lord," Sammy said. "The Colters existence began with the coming of the first born and they lasted all that time without aid or assistance from anyone. They were protected by remaining unknown and hidden. Prior to the attack, even a Ranger would not have been able to find the city. Why would Gandalf feel they needed additional protection at that time?"

Simple words, simple logic. Yet all of these years, sadness for his friend had prevented Aragorn from accepting it. A smile warmed his face as he remembered the wisdom held by the little halfling that had sired this young one. With thoughts of Frodo, he nodded to Sammy in acceptance, as respect gleamed through his gaze. And he smiled in his heart at this new found peace.

Sammy continued the tale, now speaking of how his Mother had made her way to Imladris and how she had dwelled there for a time, fostered by Lord Elrond.

With this Arwen's eyes kindled in remembrance and she said, "I remember your mother well, although we seldom spoke." She giggled softly, "I have never known one so shy. Few of us had the fortune of her attention."

Sammy cocked his head and shook it with a smile. "You would never know of her shyness now! Her song has become quite bold in mothering our brood!"

Gentle laughter broke out and it eased the mood for a moment or two. And Legolas and Gimli pondered if they had seen her in Imladris, but they could not remember her.

Sammy continued recounting the horror his mother had faced with the spell. All eyes fixed upon him in shock as he spoke. And they shook their heads at these news, wondering how many more people had suffered the fate of that sword in Middle Earth. Now, Lady Eowyn fully understood the reason Frodo and Meli had chosen her name for their daughter. Immeasurable satisfaction for stopping the hideousness of this evil was felt by all. Yet Eowyn's thought was of Merry and how his actions enabled her to accomplish the deed. Her own reverence ached inside her as she missed his sweet smile and she longed to see him again.

Sammy looked at her with deep earnest and said, "My Lady, your feat was immense. My father will never forget."

Eowyn blushed as another moment of silence fell upon the room and they all looked at her in turn with thankfulness. "I did not do it alone." She responded in modesty.

As the story continued, they marveled at the bravery Meli had held throughout the ordeal. Arwen reflected in her own thought, of her meeting with Meli in Lothlorien and her conversation with her Father afterward and again in Minas Tirith. She remembered well the horror of the moment as she learned from Elrond, the fine detail of the spell. Her Father's voice echoed in her mind, "Let fate fall where it may." She too, would never forget how Frodo struggled with his pain, though he thought he kept it quite hidden. It made her heart ache so much that she could not resist the opportunity to help in the only way she knew how. The jewel that she gave to Frodo played part in that fate. She hoped that it did help him in his time of need.

Discussion continued with the events of the war –it was the most interesting and enlightening for Sammy. Being able to hear all that had happened from other people gave him different perspectives and he came to realize the humbleness of his father. Although he had learned much from Gandalf, Elrond, and Galadriel, never before had he realized the extent of his father's bravery. Frodo humbly placed all of the heroism on Aragorn, Sam Gamgee and the others leaving none for himself. He even reproached himself in the emotion of the story telling. Now, Sammy was hearing the truth of how Frodo's morality, his determination and conviction mingled with everyone else's efforts, thus enabling things to unfold as they did.

But there was one thing that made him stand out above them all. It was the fact that being the Ringbearer, his suffering was much more horrendous than he told and with this suffering; as long as he was himself, he never gave up his resolve to finish the task. Once again as it had always done, the thought of how the Ring took his father, made Sammy shudder with fear. Now, much more than before, he understood the power of the Ring and it explained why healing had come slowly for his parents. With that, his respect grew ever greater for his father.

Sammy also learned of the long and arduous task the people of this land had, in ridding the lands of the residual evil that Sauron had left behind. Though the Orcs had scattered and lost all direction with the fall of Sauron, they were still very dangerous in their vengeful mood. It took quite sometime to drive them away and get full control of all the lands. And though they had surrendered, the Dunlendings continued to cause havoc. The Easterlings stirred trouble. Many more lives were lost and homes were destroyed. Life for the soldiers of Gondor had been very hard and dangerous. But their love for the lands and for their King was strong. At last they prevailed and Sammy was relieved to learn that now all races could live and travel in blissful peace.

They retired late that night, for they spoke long and though Sammy was tired, and he still felt sore and bruised, he was giddy with excitement. And as he lay in bed under the sweet smelling softness of the covers, he thought about his father; how he had been all of Sammy's life, gentle yet firm, wise and guiding, thoughtful and endearing. How he ached for him now, longing to tell him over and over why he had to leave. Why he had to break their hearts. How his life felt now. He knew Frodo would understand. He didn't know how, just that he would.

Then finally, he drifted off to sleep, the lyrics of a song on his mind. Lyrics his father had sung at the end of a day they had spent turning the soil of the garden. Sammy was a small boy and muddy they were, with dirt deeply embedded and equally sore. They each sat in a tub, scrubbing away as Meli filled the vats with steaming water. The song was several verses, but his mind could only remember a little and it played over and over until the dreams took him.

_**Sing hey! For the bath at close of day**_

_**That washes the weary mud away!**_

_**A loon is he that will not sing:**_

_**O! Water Hot is a noble thing!**_

When Sammy awoke the next morning, he lay in bed a little while, thinking about each and everyone he had met. He was in awe of them, each in his or her, own way. He thought again about the letters and wondered when he should present them.

"It must be in private," he decided, reflecting on the emotion they were sure to bring.

He got up and as he dressed he noticed the room now with a rested and fresh mind. It was elegant with marble floor and walls, keeping the black and white theme as he had noted in the citadel. The embroidered linens on and over his bed held a rich green and gold luster as if they were woven by magic and there was a small balcony that looked out over the Pelennor towards the river. But the one thing that caught his eye, which he hadn't seen in the darkness of the previous night, was a painting that hung on the opposite wall from the bed. It was a painting of the Citadel yard. The White Tree stood at its center, much smaller than it was now. Little delicate flower pedals floated all around, textured with sweet pink and white delicacy. Many people were there and in the middle stood four small figures, as all the others were bowing. Sammy did a double take when he realized they were the Hobbits, the renown from the war of the Ring and among them, his father. Pride warmed him over as he stood and gazed and a smile deepened the moment with his dimples.

He went down the stairs in search of breakfast and as he passed through the empty dining room, he could hear a loud voice from a room in the back, booming complaints in Sindarin. Hushed whispers accompanied the voice and Sammy, having grown up around the language understood the argument to be that of the cook and the Lady Aredhel as she consoled the weary chef for the volume of food that had to be prepared for all of the guests. Sammy couldn't help but feel amused at this, for the way that the Lady handled the situation was as a Matron and her child, though the cook had to be an elf, twice her age.

He was delighted to find everyone enjoying the meal in the garden. There was a small fountain and the water lilies were in full bloom. Sammy was in heaven he thought, with the various species of plants in this new and different place. He couldn't help but marvel at the brilliancy of the whiteness of the flowers in the early sun.

"This place is beautiful!" He said as he settled down at the table and accepted a plate from Gimli, laden high with luscious pastries and fruit.

Elessar smiled proudly, "Yes, my Lady did a wonderful job on this garden, and our home. And so did Gimli and his people as they rebuilt the city."

Gimli grunted, as he poured the little hobbit some tea, "Yes! I must say it was very satisfying!"

Legolas smiled and noted the differences in Sammy's looks from that of his father's. At first sight, one would think they were one in the same person, but now that he looked closer he realized Sammy's face was rounder and he had deep dimples that brought out his merry disposition in a sweet way. And his eyes still held that elvish quality that he inherited from his mother, regardless of his choice. He smiled and said, "Come Master Samwise, tell us your plans."

Sammy spoke dreamily of his plans; he wanted to see a little of Middle Earth, then to settle in the Shire, to live among his father's people, the place of his dreams. "I imagine a simple life there, just tending my garden," he looked all around at the plants and flowers and sighed. Then he continued, "maybe etch out a living someway, perhaps in carpentry. Tell me what is it like in the Shire these days?"

The King spoke of the changes that had come of that land, "Now it stretches as far as the Emyn Beraid and Thain Peregrin is now Master and Mayor Samwise is Counselor, in what is now known to man as the North-Kingdom." Elessar smiled at the light that sparked in Sammy's eyes. "Yes, Samwise has served as Mayor for many years now and has done a remarkable job of it. His daughter Elanor, married a young Hobbit from Greenholm, Fastred is his name. They recently settled in the Tower Hills in the far west of the Shire. Life has settled back down to the peacefulness that your father enjoyed in his childhood days."

Sammy smiled contentedly. "Well, I am now, truly torn as to how long to stay in _this_ wondrous place, or head out straight away to the Shire!"

They all laughed and offered invitational suggestions carrying the conversation here and there with ideas. Sammy took it all to heart and as they spoke he thought of how happy he felt. He wondered how many people in the world had the opportunity to meet the faces of tales that they had grown up hearing. He felt truly lucky and blessed.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

**Of Kings, Queens and Princes**

Several days had now passed and with all that he had learned Sammy's desires to see Middle Earth had grown. There were many sights in and around the city that drew his interest and the people that he had met there held his heart for the moment, so he was in no hurry to leave. The other guests had planned to stay two more months, so he was content stay on, yet not for quite that long, for he still had the desire to reach the Shire before spring slipped into its ending days.

He had spent the morning poring over the books in the vast library. It was a serene place to spend time, its colors earthly, but interestingly vibrant. It was obvious this place was new, for the Elvish flavors were fluent revealing that Lady Arwen had something to do with its creation. The walls were full of many visions, artistic and enticing in nature, drawing the eye in various formats. Gracefully centered in the middle of the large room was two long rows of bookshelves, no higher than the top of Sammy's head, arched in a crescent wave; they were positioned just off from each other as though they were engaged in a lovely dance. Each held an abundance of books, bound by the leathers of the beasts of Middle Earth and filled with delicate parchment as written by the elves of old.

Arwen entered the room, carrying a new painting. Unaware of the little hobbit's presence she gently placed the piece on the east wall and then stood back to admire it. The vibrant scene rose from earthly blues and greens to a bursting orange and red; it was of the sunrise over the peaks of the Mountains of Mordor, depicting hope and glory of a land won from evil.

Arwen turned as Sammy stood to acknowledge her presence, but his eye was drawn towards the impressive piece. "Aglareb," he said in her tongue with the only word he could think of to describe his feelings about the painting. But as the word left his lips, he realized 'glorious' was far too lacking a word to describe it.

She smiled and explained its origin proudly as if it were painted by her own child. "It was painted by Calen, my handmaiden. She loves to rise early and capture the lands about the Pelennor, although her confidence is quite limited. I have tried to encourage her, but this is the only one she has completed."

Arwen seemed very generous in Sammy's thoughts, to give this kind of attention to a servant; it made his heart glad. He smiled sweetly and bowed respectfully as she approached. She offered her hand and as he kissed it, he inhaled her soft rosy scent and he trembled.

Arwen smiled and touched his dimple saying, "You are so much like your father. How you make me miss him, yet at the same time, _you _satisfy me with _your_ presence."

Sammy blushed deeply and said, "My Lady, how I have longed to tell you. Your gift to my father was so…" he paused now with sudden loss for words. His emotions flowed fiercely as he attempted to pass on to her his father's heartfelt gratitude. His eyes moistened but he blinked it away with a smile.

She knelt down, and took his hand as a modest laugh escaped her lips. "It is alright, Sammy. I feel your words and I am very pleased to know that my jewel brought him comfort."

Yet it was not Frodo's comfort that was now holding Sammy's thoughts. He thought how significant it was her '_grace'_ that had not only brought peace to his father, but how it had touched so many lives. His very existence came to be from that gift, as did his siblings'. It brought happiness that touched his Mother. Even the Colters were affected, for the presence of Frodo was valued and loved. Very many lives were sweetened, like a never ending river; it would flow all through time.

Arwen saw these thoughts in his eyes and she gently took his hand and said, "Dear Samwise."

With the touch of her hand, warmth poured over him and it gave him the courage to find the words. He softly began, "My Lady, about your mother, Lady Celebrian. I first met her when I was very young for we visited your parents often. They were like grandparents to me in many ways as I grew up; I learned very much from them. Your mother spoke of you, many times. I almost feel as though I knew you, even before I came here. You know she always wore a beautiful jewel, as beautiful as the night; as beautiful as you, my Lady."

Arwen looked at him in surprise and now she blushed.

Sammy smiled at her with the sweetness of his eyes and said, "My mother, Meli, told me about that jewel. It was your jewel. She said my father had given it to your mother, upon arrival at Eressëa. You see, when your mother discovered that you were not on that ship; it was so much for her to bear."

Now Arwen's eyes moistened as the ever present pain of leaving her family was brought to the surface in vocal awareness; it throbbed within her.

Sammy continued, "She loves you. So he gave her the jewel, to comfort her, as it had brought comfort to him. And do you know what? She did find comfort my Lady, and soon she came to accept the love that took you away from her. She seems happy for you now, content and at peace. I thought you should know."

Arwen let loose a heavy sigh as though it had been held in bondage within her heart for an age. Relief flowed over her face and she took him into her arms and hugged him warmly as a tear of happiness teetered on the edge of falling from her beautiful eyes. She thanked him through fluttering breaths; she was relieved to find ease from a grief that she had long worn.

Then Sammy reached into his back pocket and pulled out the letters. He had been holding them there in anticipation of the right moment to present them. This moment was perfect and as he handed them to her, he felt her gasp as she recognized the gentle strokes of the writing. He spoke no words, for no words were necessary and she took them with great appreciation in her eyes, softly whispering, "Thank you". He then left her to privacy as she untied the ribbon with eagerness and a smile so wondrous, Sammy's heart quivered. From that day forth he noticed a new glow about her; an even deeper happiness had blossomed. Now she knew that her mother had come to accept her choice. She had sent her blessings with much love.

Sammy's stay in the White City was as a dream. He got to know the wondrous faces of tales far deeper than he had ever expected to do. His shyness slowly diminished as he comfortably strolled through the city streets, greeting and conversing with the astonished people, all of whom were overjoyed with the son of Frodo. They had many celebrations honoring him and it was his pride in the Hobbits that gave him so much courage that he stood up to speak in front of everyone. He told stories, played his instruments and sang jolly songs. He made many more friends and had many fond memories.

Yet all was not bliss when almost immediately he noted the subtle melancholy that blanketed Legolas. He watched him from time to time and wondered what it was that could be haunting him.

But the elf kept to himself and never offered any opportunity for the little hobbit to ask.

King Elessar and Queen Arwen were immensely amused at the names Sammy had given his horses, Strider and Evenstar. But it was King Eomer that delighted most in them, when told of their lineage –offspring of the Mearas, of Shadowfax and a descendant of Asfaloth through Nessa. Sammy offered him a ride, begging to be shown the city of Osgiliath. With Eomer upon Strider and Sammy upon Evenstar, they set out after the mid-day meal. The King delighted in the strength and grace Strider had and complimented Sammy on the well being of both horses.

"It is obvious the love you have for these two." He said.

Sammy nodded, "Yes Sire, they are very dear to me. It was not hard making the decision whether to bring them."

As they entered Osgiliath, Sammy could see that with the architecture and the views between the river and the Pelennor; that it had once been a magnificent place. King Elessar had mentioned his plans to someday rebuild, but he had been so preoccupied with other tasks that he had not yet begun this one. It would be a massive task indeed. The damage bestowed by plague and time was evident. But the worst of it was the damage that had been wrought by the orcs in their vile hatred.

As they traversed the streets, they were very careful not to take the horses in harm's way with the debris that littered them. They spoke of the history the city beheld. Melancholy filled the air and the imagined ghosts lingered behind thoughts. They came upon the edge of the river, where the docks had once been. Ruined in splattered rock where brick walls once stood, the entire area was devastated as though great ships had rammed it with fierce destruction. The water was shallow, but the shores revealed the massive width that the mighty Anduin once held here. Green moss grew slimy on the pillars that once held an enormous bridge and Sammy wondered at the trade that must have taken place. He imagined a sunny day, brimming with the hustle and bustle of business, much like the docks at Edhellond. It made him sad to see what it had become.

They wandered the streets for several hours, talking about the people that occupied this place and the events that led to their demise. Sammy had not known very much about it, other than what he had read in a book the previous day, in the library. He was shocked to learn of the plague that had infected the people of this city. Such things he had never heard of; sickness and vile disease. It frightened him and he wondered what fate would fall upon him as a mortal. Gloom settled upon their mood as they dismounted and roamed the ruins of the healing house. Disarray littered the vast hall, but only brick and rock could be seen, for every last thing was robbed by the orcs in their hideous occupation.

They wandered for a while, saying little and seeing much, until finally they had seen enough. They mounted the horses and slipped out of the city with heavy hearts. The sun had begun to settle on the tips of the White Mountains, and the birds were now napping in fluttering rows along the Pelennor wall. Sammy sighed heavily and then to shake free from the dark mood, he shouted with a grin, "Come! Let us see who is fastest!" He was challenging the King to a race!

Eomer hardly had a chance to react when Evenstar took off at one word from Sammy. But soon Strider was gaining on them. Side by side the horses ran with a whirl of dust at their feet. One moment Strider would ease into the lead and then Evenstar would get a burst of energy and dash in front. Back and forth they went in playful exertion and it was obvious the horses were having far more fun than anyone! Then to Sammy's surprise, Evenstar had to dodge a rabbit hole and then fiercely fight for her balance, enabling Strider to won by a nose! Shouts of glee echoed from a few spectators that had witnessed the fun. Sammy and Eomer rolled off the horses in laughter. They slapped their hands into each others in a shake of sportsmanship and then stopped into a nearby pub, sealing the day with a pint of Gondor's finest and a toast to Shadowfax and Nessa.

In the remaining visit, Sammy spent much time alone with King Elessar hiking the paths up Mount Mindolluin, talking and learning of the ways of Middle Earth. His first moment on the summit, as he emerged from the thick of the trees, brought a gasp at the sight from so high up. Never before had he been so impacted by a sight; so awesome in its magnificent size. It made him realize the enormity of the world and the glory in its creation.

He could see the mighty Anduin before him arching its way around the Pelennor glistening silver in the sunlight. He could see as far as Rauros to the north; the steam from the falls misting on the horizon. The land all around it was multi-colored and rolling, fading off into silent haze that never seemed to end.

To the West was a never ending chain of mountains blue and serene, looming and rugged. Many birds dotted and flitted, swirling in the wind as they danced in unison with land and rock. And beyond the feet of the mountains, spread vast plains of pale green with an occasional cluster of forest or rock that faded far into the Northwest.

To the south was rugged land, yellow and brown etched deep with the slender rivers running in glistening ribbons through it. Memory of the sweltering heat came to Sammy and he inhaled in deep relief of the cool air on the mountaintop. And on the far horizon, he could see the ocean disappearing into grey cloud with the echoing waves calling for attention. It amazed him that he could hear it from atop the mount and when he made comment about it to Aragorn, the king responded that he could not hear, nor see any part of the ocean. Then realization came to Sammy, that he had retained his elvish qualities of hearing and sight. He smiled for this gift.

Finally he turned to the east, and saw the decay of Mount Doom and all of the land surrounding it, still dark and blackm, charred from the horrors that had raped it in utter destruction. Shock pounded his chest as once again, his thought turned to his father. The pain he had endured became more evident with this sight, and the magnitude of the quest he accomplished became more illuminating. And this led his thought to the one that he so longed to meet -a soul that he already loved, sight unseen -Samwise Gamgee.

The King noted the shock on Sammy's face, and sadly responded. "It will take many a year, perhaps an age for that land to recover, if ever it will." Then turning to look out over the land to the north he said in earnest, "I shall hold gratification for all my days, for the little halflings that prevented _all_ of Middle Earth from that fate."

Sammy turned to him and replied, "I shall hold gratification for _all_, which took part in preventing that fate." And he bowed low. But Elessar took him up and squeezed his shoulders, with a playful grin and Sammy knew the love that this man had for the world.

Sammy continued his long journey on an early spring day, accompanied by King Eomer, his Queen Lothíriel, Prince Elphir, Amrothos, Prince Legolas and Gimli. As he had planned in Aman, he decided to follow some of the path his father had taken home, so long ago, but with small detours to marvel at some of the other sights he had learned of.

Edoras, golden, forever etched in his mind; the gloriously carved pillars of Meduseld, the tapestries and the serene view of the mountains surrounding the vast hill it sat upon. The sound of the horses in the morning and the breeze that blew ever strong, leaving the feeling of being cleansed in the cool breath of the early spring. He enjoyed the people there, though they were different from any race he had seen as yet. "Rugged and earthly" he described them in his journal and as "different as his life had ever seen". And "oh how they loved celebrations in this day of peace".

Once, he heard Eomer joyously express their reaction to the ending of the war, "It was as though they had awakened from a long depressed sleep, to a dazzling and ebullient sun!"

It was a warm night, one of the few Sammy experienced in Rohan, for spring was still in the air, and the wind usually kept it cool. He stepped out of the great hall for fresh air, for the smoke had become a little too thick. His throat was dry and raspy not only from the smoke, but from much laughter and he was glad his mug of ale was good and cold. He drew a deep breath, looking all around, taking in the thousands of stars in the vast sky.

He heard a voice behind him, "They are a hearty folk, are they not?" It was Prince Elphir and Sammy could detect a slur of ale in his speech although he stood tall and steady.

"Yes, my Lord," he laughed "quite hearty!"

He was a tall man and as his dark grey eyes shadowed in the moonlight, it blended in with his black hair making him seem hooded. It added to the mystery of this quiet man as Sammy had experienced. Though they had been among each other for many weeks, this was the first time they had private conversation.

Once again Sammy thought of Mithrellas and it was as though Elphir had read his thoughts when he said, "You met her, did you not? Mithrellas -when you were at Dol Amroth."

Sammy's heart skipped a beat, and he felt as though he had done something wrong…he felt as though he had failed her. He looked away saying, "I did. How did you know?"

Elphir laughed gently, "I can see it in your eyes every time you have looked at me. I have done right by her you know."

Sammy swallowed and wondered why he said that; then he reasoned in his thoughts, "Of course, who would not have tried?" Still, there was something more that was there, what it was he could not decipher -however the little Hobbit answered to comfort the man, "Yes, I know. She is very troubled."

Elphir turned his face away from Sammy and said in a voice, heavy with grief, "Twenty-two generations stand between her tragedy and the present. Yet, she lingers here in pain and suffering. We can not force her to go. The elves tell us the ship will not pass. What can I do? How can I make _the_ difference that all my forefathers could not make?"

He spoke the last words, not as question, but in utter frustration. Sammy could tell he loved her. A love like the adoration of a withering antique, a wilting flower, like the worn and yellowed pages of a book held dear. He wondered at the history between this man and that maiden. What was it like, the years of growing up in a place where such evil festered upon such loveliness? How many times had he tried, how many words had been spoken…how hard it must be to let it go.

Elphir shook off the mood and called for more ale. "Come Samwise Baggins, son of Frodo! Let us go and have a drink and song, to shake this melancholy. Tomorrow I ride for Dol Amroth!"

Sammy's farewells with the King and his Lady Lothíriel were filled with promises and small gifts of carved wood, for they knew where his heart was going. Eomer held his handshake in lingering tightness –his eyes fixed on the little hobbit. "I would hold anticipation to see you again, my friend. But my heart tells me that this is our last meeting. Go in peace and prosper in all that you do dear, Samwise. And never forget your friends in Rohan."

Sammy bowed, speechless and reverent and then drew amused smiles as he efficiently clambered up onto Strider's back.

He rode away that morning with Gimli and Prince Legolas, with a promise from Gimli of a personal tour of the Glittering Caves. The elf rode quietly behind them, as Sammy enjoyed Gimli's constant chattering and occasional teasing. And every once in a while, the dwarf would draw the elf in and pretend bickering would commence; it was quite an entertaining trek along the foothills of the mighty White Mountains and through the Westfold. But they became silent and reverent upon entering the Glittering Caves that Gimli had spoken so wondrously of. The cavern was cool and majestic; the vastness was far beyond what he had imagined it would be. The rock was colorful, twinkling in the light of the torches as Gimli described the various ways to cut it without leaving unnecessary scars or damaging the surroundings. The experience for Sammy was awe inspiring. Yet he could not help but notice that Legolas was busy searching every opening, exploring every passageway, intent upon finding something, or someone. Sammy watched him in silent wonder.

They camped that night, deep in the bowels of the mountain in the cool fissures of its heart. All through the night Sammy heard echoes of things living and he felt them moving in the black of the yawn. He heard water dripping in rhythm like a song from a foreign instrument of which he had never heard. And to make matters worse, Gimli snored an awful sound and Legolas had disappeared for hours unending. Disconcerted he felt, in this place, though beautiful it was. When he awoke the next morning aching and cold, with visions of what it must be like in the Shire dancing in his head, he announced he was ready to leave.

Suddenly Legolas' eyes flashed fierce and determined. "I shall stay one more night at least in this place."

Gimli grumbled something inaudible, then clearly stated in a subtly frustrated tone, "Then I shall stay with you, my friend." It was clear he loved these caves and was quite at home, yet it was also clear that his determination to be by his friend's side in whatever it was that was haunting him was testing him sorely. Embarrassed, for Sammy, he apologized and stated that they would not be departing with him. He would however, escort him to the opening of the cave to offer his farewell.

Legolas' face softened and he stood and placed his hand on Sammy's shoulder. "Forgive me, my friend. I… Farewell, dear Samwise." Sammy's eye was drawn down to a broken chain that emerged from the elf's other hand, tightly clenched as though it held something precious to him. With that, Legolas strode away seemingly heavy of heart, yet again, searching as he went.

Gimli and Sammy marched in silence for a spell, no words to say, awkward and moody. It was sorely uncomfortable for Sammy and after a while, he could no longer hold his tongue from asking the question that nagged him. "Forgive me, Gimli, for asking. But is there something I can do for Legolas?"

Gimli grumbled and heaved a mighty sigh. "No, there is nothing you can do…nothing anyone can do." Then he told Sammy a sorrowfully heart wrenching story of a woman that Legolas had loved. She had disappeared after the war and he had searched for her long in vain. But for a while, he had given up the search to fulfill his promise in rebuilding Ithilien, all along keeping hope that someday she would arrive. Gimli concluded, "Now that our task is done, he has decided to resume the search. I fear it will never end."

Sammy bowed his head in sadness for the revered elf and he whispered, "I shall search too in my journey. Tell me about her, Gimli. What was she like?"

Gimli spoke for the rest of the way of the fair Isiliel. And Sammy planted each word firmly in his mind for he knew his journey would be long. With more warm farewells, he finally rode off on his own, with unsure destiny weighing on his thoughts.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

**The Diary **

Riding hard and stopping seldom, Sammy made it all the way to Isengard, within a day. Its gardens were in full growth as though the tales he had been told had never happened. He could not stop staring at the sharp black tower, its history shouting silently in its massive looming. Gandalf came to mind as he eyed the spikes far atop the tower and he shuddered at the thought of being held prisoner in this place.

He truly loved and already missed the old wizard in his teasing wisdom and ever thoughtful guidance. He even missed his grumpiness as the sound of the children woke him too early on many a morning. What a blessing he had been to his upbringing, although there were times when he was very young that he wished the old wizard had not known so much or were a little less wise. And knowing the wizard and his ways, Sammy felt saddened that he had to witness the destruction of this beautiful place.

He made camp and slept on the lush lawn of the garden that had been restored. The horses were in bliss with the sweet grasses and the cool blue water of a pond nearby. Sammy lie listening to the crickets chatter and soon he was off into his dreams; the tales of his father's kin, Merry and Pippin. In slumber he witnessed the battle they fought to win back the land about Isengard. The Ents were fierce, huge and treelike. He could see the hobbits as he had always envisioned them, clutching high atop Treebeard as the water devastated the evil that had invaded this place. However, before the dream was finished, he was up and off again at a swift gallop riding the dawn hours away, in eagerness to meet his kin.

He rode the horses hard for many days, skirting the edges of Fangorn, nary an "Ent" to be seen. Though tired from travel he still raised the dust of the plains from the Limlight to the Celebrant. But he was sure to stop each time the sun bounded over the horizon to give the horses full nights rest. He lay under the stars in waiting unable to grasp at much sleep as the anticipation stirred within him. He passed the time singing to the brightest star above, just as his Mother had done, so many years before.

Spring was still in the air when he came upon the edge of Lorien, where the river Celebrant is joined with Nimrodel. He looked longingly at the trees, beautiful but no longer as glorious as described by his mother in the days of past. As he stood in the waters, he heard Nimrodel's song and thought with gratitude how his father's pain had been healed. Yet sadness came to him that his mother's had not. But he thought of her healing in Aman and once again he raised his thought upon Ilúvatar and gave thanks for all that had come in the end and for the peace of this fair land.

He dashed further coming upon Mirrormere in the afternoon. Carefully walking the horses down the steep green slope, he could not take his eyes from the white billowy clouds that rested sleepily upon the waters of blue. He came upon the standing stone and gazed into the dark waters as his father had done. Now he could see no clouds, nor the sun as it shone above. He smiled at the wonder of the crown, and the stars glinting deeply. Gimli came to mind. He closed his eyes and hearing his father's voice recalled his words as he recounted the tale, "O'Kheled-zâram fair and wonderful!" The thought of Gimli made him laugh aloud at the jolly teasing between the dwarf and Legolas. Glad he was that he had the opportunity to meet them. But deep down, he mourned for Legolas' sorrow.

Hungrily he made camp, lighting a fire and tending the horses. Then he settled down upon a blanket to sup on the fruits and smoky meats provided to him by the people of Rohan. Laying on the soft shore he finally slept peacefully to the sound of the water gently lapping at its edges. When morning came, he woke refreshed and still he did not tarry, for the pull was ever greater.

He climbed all day, up the mountain at the Redhorn Pass stopping for the night in its center, closer to the stars in song. Then he went on at daybreak wasting nary a moment. And as he descended the mountain, the great looming of Caradras moaned to the north; he felt as though it watched his every step as its history swayed his mind. He refused the emotion as it reached for him and he hastened, riding hard as ever. But as he reached the foot of the mountain, he could not bring himself to pass her feet. Instead he felt an enormous pull to the south, to the Silvertine. It was fierce and he could not refuse his emotions any longer. Though it was not in his plan to enter Moria, he could not stop himself. He turned and began the trek to the Hollin road, fifteen miles out of his way!

Sammy argued with himself the whole time, calling himself 'fool'. His history reminded him that the gate had been destroyed. Yet he went on his way as though he had no control and the pull guided him. The horses grumbled and snorted at the precarious footing of the mountain's foothills. This was not a land usually traveled and there were parts that were impassable as the thickets of the trees and the tangle of the holly came together. So round and round they slithered through the brush, with only the sky and the sun and the looming peak of the mountaintop to aid in Sammy's perspective of north and south.

Finally they reached a cliff wall topped with a jagged shelf about thirty feet high above their heads. In the far distance, to the south could be seen a path that wound its way in loops up to the top, but it was almost over grown with gnarling trees and tresses of holly. And beyond that, could be seen the mist of a small waterfall; it trickled its way down into a large river. The pull however was into the thickets of the wood that grew in a shallow crevice to the northeast of where they stood. It seemed there was no way to get the horses through, and now Sammy faced reality. He could not take them into the mines. Would it be safe to leave them here? Was it worth the risk?

Sammy slunk down next to a fallen log fretfully. He felt he could not think straight. All he could think of was his curiosity and the urge to enter the mines. He thought of the Colters and all that they had been through in this place; and the fall of Gandalf. They were cruel and horrible tragedies that his loved ones experienced long ago. He put his face into his hands and wondered aloud, "Why, oh why do I want to be here? This was to be a journey of pleasure. Not one to remember tragedy, regret and sadness."

Now while he sat and pondered his situation, the horses wandered with the sweet smell of grasses luring them. Only a moment had passed and as Sammy removed his hands from his face he noticed they were gone. He slipped into the wood, led by the sound of their hooves and followed their prints. It only took a moment to catch up with them and to his astonishment he found a small dell sheltered by the wall of the mountain and the thicket of the woods. It was lush with green grasses and far in the back trickled a small waterfall that streamed downward and disappeared into a rocky hole. He smiled as though a gift had fallen into his lap and he unloaded his things from the horse's backs and placed then under the brush. He then spoke lovingly to the beasts, commanding that they wait here for him. Taking up his pack of provisions, he slipped down the hole, being careful not to get too wet from the stream.

* * *

Two days had now passed and Sammy continued to wonder why he had felt the need to be in the mines of Moria. Gloriously carven and massive to behold, yet they were cold and dark and dusty. They were a miserable comfort. And although all evil had been cleansed of this land, he could not help but feel fearful of what he may find down here. He traveled on, using the stealth that he had inherited, though there seemingly was no need. He reached a wide chasm that stretched for miles with only a small path upon a shelf thousands of feet high above its bottom. It wound like a snake seemingly with no end. Chains and ropes hung here and there and once in a while he saw heavy boxes used to gather the ores and mithril of long ago.

As he rounded a bend, he saw a shadow and then a flash of steel flew out of no where and landed upon his neck; its razor sharp edge could be felt as it sliced the first layer of his skin! He froze in horror but the knife was quickly withdrawn and to his relief his torch revealed Legolas standing before him!

"Forgive me my friend!" said the elf in astonished apologies. "But why are you here?"

Sammy gasped and rubbed his neck. "I…I do not know. I…well I guess I was just curious. My people were here as you know. I had to see it." He then squinted at Legolas, "And you my friend? Why are you here as well?"

Legolas looked away. "I was looking for something."

"Or someone," said Sammy.

Legolas quickly turned his head and looked into Sammy's eyes. The pain was revealed in his face, "You know, then." He stated as a matter of fact.

"Yes," said Sammy, "Gimli told me." he placed his hand on the elf's shoulder and squeezed. Legolas in turn place his hand on Sammy's shoulder and said, "Come, I have something to show you."

* * *

They walked for quite some time through miles of the deepest caverns. They came upon another chasm. It yawned wide with vast echoes and the walls were marbled thick with mithril that shimmered in the light from their torches as it licked the walls. Sammy's pace slowed as he marveled at the beauty of the cave. Then something caught his eye.

Legolas stood over it as though he were marking the spot. It was a piece of clothing, bright blue but quite soiled, strewn along the path as though it had been dropped. The little hobbit picked up the small shirt and held it up, admiring the delicate embroidery around each sleeve. It had been finely sewn with a thin strand of mithril. He stared at the fine craftsmanship in wonder as Legolas approached; a look of wonder also on his face.

"It is Elven made" Legolas said, "I thought it was a child's shirt."

Sammy puzzled,"But what would it be doing here in the mines...where the Dwarves, and then the Orcs lived?" Then he remembered, "No Legolas! It was Colter-made! Look!" He held up the bottom of the sleeve, where a small rose had been sewn. It was a mark that the Colters often had sewn onto their clothing and crafts!

Sammy's adrenalin began pulsing. He began looking around for clues, and he noticed many footprints all muddled together as though a large crowd had passed through this way. Curious, he back tracked the opposite direction and slipped through a small opening, just high enough to bend without crawling. Legolas followed and struggled greatly to get through the opening, but he managed. They came out into a large cavern and Sammy gasped at the sight as his torch flickered in revelation!

All around the outer walls, lined neatly as though in formation, were many makeshift beds. Soft dirt was thickly gathered under intertwined vines that had been used as blankets, each one lying smooth and undisturbed as though awaiting the end of day. Sammy slowly walked around the room, noticing here and there rugged, personal belongings...a make-shift comb, a bowl carved from rock -for washing, a pair of pants neatly folded beside a boulder set up for a stool, a book.

"What is this?" he asked. He picked up the book and flipped through the first few pages which held drawings, rough but emotive. Then he came upon written word, scribed in the common tongue. This made him wonder and he began to read.

"_It gets cold here at night... so bone cold I feel it drives me into a deeper sleep than is natural. I fight the sleep, for I fear I may not awake. The very thought of being so far away from awareness panics me. Yet, sleep wins me, eventually, every night. _

_It has been two months since our capture." _

Sammy stopped and looked at Legolas wide eyed! His heart was pounding and tears began to well up in his eyes. Legolas laid his arm across his shoulders and squeezed.

"Come, my friend" said the elf, "Let us make camp and we can sit and read if you like. But you must promise me, that you will eat first."

Sammy nodded and followed his friend to the eastern corner of the room. There they found a small table, laden with dishes, utensils and possibly the remnants of food, old and molded to the point of dust. Legolas cleared it off quickly and unpacked some provisions. They supped quietly as Sammy eyed the book lying on the table. His thoughts whirled at the thought of this find and his curiosity was nearly uncontrollable as he longed to pick it up and read. But he remembered his promise and looked over at Legolas. This elf was so proper and crisp, precise and skilled with all that he did and the way that he carried himself. But his warmth could always be felt deeply among his friends and his humor was refreshing on the rare occasion when his woes could be forgotten.

Sammy grinned as he noted the precarious way the great elf was sitting on the tiny stool. It sent him into daydreams of Gandalf and of the Halladur as they visited Coivinya when the Colters had their festivals. After a while they learned to bring their own chairs for comfort. But then as well as now, it was an amusing sight to see them teetering on the edge of falling. Once again, he mused over the fact that Gandalf had implemented his own designs into the Baggins home at Tol Eressëa. Designs for his own comfort with a bedroom specially sized for him, tall doorways and ceilings, and a piece of furniture or two built for the tall.

Then Sammy thought of Legolas' Isiliel. He had many questions, many thoughts that made him wonder. But it was obvious the elf could not speak of it. Then silently, Sammy wished that peace and happiness would grace his friend. That she would be found, safe and sound.

They finished their meal and finally they settled down upon the beds, once they shook the dust from the covers and Legolas combined three to make it his size. Sammy began pouring over the book, his eyes swayed to and fro as the words were absorbed with his hunger to know.

But Legolas interrupted him and asked him to read aloud. "…if you don't mind my friend." He said gently.

Sammy began again from the beginning.

"_It gets cold here at night... so bone, cold I feel it drives me into a deeper sleep than is natural. I fight the sleep, for I fear I may not awake. The very thought of being so far away from awareness panics me. Yet, sleep wins me, eventually, every night. _

_It has been two months since our capture." How I have survived, I do not know. I get so angry. How we fought them, from the first moment when they invaded us. Yet they barely fought back, subduing us for their despicable needs, and killing very few of us! I will never forget the shock we all felt as the vile creatures suddenly appeared. I am appalled! How did it happen? How did they find our home? Home…how I ache for it! _

_Rage fills my soul! My side still throbs where they kicked me, and I think my arm is healing wrong. It was worth it, though. I will do it again if I have the opportunity. Alas, I have never held the thought of killing, but the sight of Kalë being handled by them sears my heart! Oh, how I love her! How I fear for her! They keep us separate and will not let me near her. I am dying inside._

_I know I must write more about her, yet for now I cannot. I need strength. All I can do is hope and pray Gandalf finds us. He is our only hope. Alas, but what can he do alone? He would need a whole army and then some. I shudder at the thought of the black terror, although I have not laid eyes on it. It lives deep within this place and those who have seen it say even Gandalf would quake in its presence._

* * *

_I no longer know how long it has been. All time has been lost to me, as it has for the others of my people. We do not see the sun, or smell the morning dew. Our enemies work us long hours, to the point of dropping; digging, moving rock, and making their vile weapons and armor. Our maidens spend hours honing and sharpening each blade, linking mail, cooking for all. Then in the night; cleaning and sewing the hideous skins they bring in; still wet with blood, still reeking of death. From what animal they come, we do not know, but it is big and its fur very stiff and wiry. _

_With all that our maidens do, it barely leaves them time for tending our young, or sleeping. The children; how it grieves me to think of what their lives have become. They have become slaves, also; carriers and runners, they too, get no rest. Even the little ones are forced to carry tools and material. Oh, how they cried in the beginning. The very sound of it broke every heart. Until finally the last tear was shed and now it has become a dead silence, not even a whimper; trained to be as walking corpses, no longer speaking, not one sound, just obeying. _

_I give thanks every night that we are a small people, far too small for our blood to mingle; far too small for the unspoken need. Gandalf told us, long ago; how the Orcs came to be. The thought of it sickens me; the rape and agony that the Halladur suffered at the heinous hands of Morgoth! Shake it from my mind! I can not bear the thought…Kalë!_

* * *

_We have no time, to rest or reflect. That can be a good thing, I suppose, yet I long for more time to write. I am so grateful I chose to learn this art and this language from Gandalf in spite of the others. My people do not care for such things as books and writings and history ... well, except for Melanna. She was the only other one that was interested in the books Gandalf brought us. However, she was far too shy to share this passion with me, much less her thoughts. _

_Melanna…what could have happened to her? Surely, she must be dead for she is not among us. How it grieves my soul to lose one so sweet and demur! How her father mourns! I can see it in his eyes. It is like a light that has gone out and darkness has spewed its gloom within them. I wonder how her mother is doing. Much the same, I suppose._

Sammy stopped for a moment to swallow the grief that welled in his throat. His eyes filled with tears as he thought of the horror that his grandparents must have felt. Legolas waited patiently in silence for the little one to gain control of his emotions. Then finally Sammy heaved a heavy sigh and continued.

_It has been far too long since I could write. I am glad I found this book for the thought of it has kept me going. From the cover, I can tell it was not made by the Orcs -none of these things here in this place were made by them. I doubt they could make anything but death or suffering. No, these things were made by hands from a good heart. The skill is too wondrous. It grieves my heart to know they must have either fled or perished. The first eight pages were drawn by the soul who owned this book. The drawings are rough, but I see a talent there. My heart tells me he is not of elven blood, and neither are the faces he drew. I have never seen his kind. My father tells me that he has seen them, along the river. Gandalf told him they are called Dwarves and they were traveling to a place called Khazad-dúm. I wonder if that is where we are. When we arrived, they led us through a great city, crumbled and forgotten. Its halls were magnificent as the cut on each stone showed the love that had been poured into it. They must have been a grand people, to create such a vast and elegant place. I often wonder what happened to them._

_

* * *

_

_I have been thinking very much about our city, Carasdolen. From a young age, the Elders taught us the skill of stealth. We learned how the gifts of the Valar enabled us to place protection about our home. Obviously it was not perfect, but lately I cannot shake the wonder of how this happened. I have had horrid dreams of the faces that fell in the clash behind the dining hall. I fought fiercely but was desperately hindered by the shock of seeing the death of a Colter, the death of my friend. My Father dragged me away far too soon! Giliath was my mentor, my confidant, as close as a brother. _

_Yet I feel anger towards him and I am not sure why. Yes, he was often overly boisterous and a bit too self assured. But he had good reason for his confidence; he was a skilled hunter and fed all of our people well. We all knew he was destined to be a great leader of the Colters. Yet, his confidence turned out to be his downfall. He was far too bold, too brave, and he fought as though he alone was tasked with our protection. And yet, there was something, I do not know…something in his eyes._

_There was another beating today. I have avoided writing about them, for I cannot contain my tears. But today it was very bad, and my tears come anyway. I need this release. Durion, my uncle, has been like a father to me. I chose to follow his example for he is wise and holds great skill in craftsmanship. They give him the more difficult assignments, making him craft heinous weapons for their leaders. He attempted to put forth less skill in the mace he was making, hoping to cause an end in battle for the loathsome creature. He had done it before. This time, they inspected too thoroughly and his effort was revealed. _

_I tended him for a time afterward, desperately working on his every wound; they are terrible, hideous and I do not think he will heal properly. His ears are gone. It was all I could do to stop the bleeding. He will survive; hands intact. They said he didn't need ears to do the job the right way next time. My anger seethes through my skin! I wish to scream and tear through every one of them! Durion made me promise, to breathe deeply and reflect upon our freedom of which we will never loose hope. I will pray to Ilúvatar this night, far longer than I ever have._

* * *

_I long for my mother. I have not seen her for many seasons. My father by my side has given me strength. Durion has given me resolve. Still, I miss the tenderness of her smile. I hunger for her touch. _

_Touch…that word brings thoughts of Kalë to me. I have avoided writing of her, for I fear the dreams of which they will bring. I cannot release from my memory the way they touched her. It sears my soul and fills me with rage. Perhaps if I write of our last night together…yes, perhaps I will have wondrous dreams. _

_I feel it as though it happened just yesterday, although it must be many years now since our capture. Kalë made my childhood joyful. The last night we spent in Carasdolen, I managed to muster the courage to tell her how I feel. We were walking the woods within our city, absorbing the glow of the glistening moonlight and basking in the shimmers of the star in the west. I told her I had loved her from the waking moment of our eyes. Then, I took her into my arms and I kissed her sweet lips as our bodies touched in tender hugs. _

_I laugh now at the way we jumped when interrupted by Melanna as she tore through the bushes, almost knocking us over. At first we were frightened by what she might be running from, but then Giliath crashed through calling her name in urgency, as though he had lost fair game. We laughed for a moment, then our embrace continued and the night brought our love to the light. We vowed our lives to be as one._

_The next day we announced our intent to our families and made plans for a joyous celebration. But the noon time meal was interrupted and evil won our lives instead._

Once again Sammy paused. He frowned in curiosity about this 'Giliath'. This was a name he had not heard before this reading and he wondered at the significance that this elf had played in his Mother's life. He quickly resumed reading, to see if he could learn more.

_The years have grown grey and old. I look back on this book and see how little I have been able to write in the vast expanse of time. Just the thought of this book has driven me, giving me the skill to cope. The Orcs are restless these days of late. I can sense the world is stirring in evil above. I can feel the darkness growing. I feel panicked as though the end is very near. If I leave and never return to this book, I pray that the eyes that shall fall upon the pages next will be those of a good heart and soft soul. _

Sammy looked up at Legolas, whose face fell into a smile. The great elf nodded and Sammy continued.

_Our enemy is growing careless. I was with Kalë today! It was not long, only a few moments, the most precious of my life! I was told to place wood near the kiln where the females work. I could see from their weakness why this task was given to me. Not one of them could have lifted the heavy fagots as large as they had been cut. It seems weariness of all the years has taken its toll upon them. It makes me feel guilty, that all this work has made the males stronger while our females weaken and wither. _

_I had not time to think of these thoughts, for Kalë appeared at the side of the great oven. We were well out of sight of the enemy. Few words were spoken, for we had far too much to say. She touched my face and I held her so tight. And then she kissed me so sweet, I fear my heart has melted. Alas, then voices brought terror to our senses. She quickly recovered, as though she worked nearby without notice of me. It was very clever of her, but I quake at the thought of what may have happened if they had seen us. I shall not be so careless again. I cannot take the chance. Still, I shall place this memory in my thoughts every night as I drift off to sleep in this forsaken place._

* * *

_This day has brought many more beatings. The Orcs are restless and infected with anxiety. Something is brewing hot and evil outside. I can feel the thickness of its wicked laughter. _

_I saw Kalë again today! My heart was shredded to tears when I saw her limping. But the light in her eyes glowed as they met mine and I could feel the warmth of her love. How I long to touch her again and…_

Sammy turned page after page, but this was the end. He placed the book in his pack reflectively and slowly lay back on the bed. Legolas sat quietly, respecting the little hobbits mood, and they meditated for a while, pondering what could have happened for the writer to stop so abruptly.

Soon Sammy was asleep and dreaming once again of his Mother. All night his slumbers were filled with the songs she used to sing about the fate of the Colters. Some were sorrowfully sad, others joyous and sweet as their destiny turned from tragedy to wondrously gifted. And when he awoke the next morning he found Legolas sitting in the same spot, watching him sleep with thoughts of deep emotions coloring his face. The friends sat in silence for a spell, watching each other as though conversation took place in silent understanding of the emotions each was feeling; for the Colters and for Isiliel.

Finally Legolas broke the silence and asked, "Do you know who he is, Sammy; the writer of the book?"

Sammy sighed and answered, "Yes, he is our leader now, High Elder of Coivinya. Galadir is his name. He leads with deep love and compassion for our people. This explains a lot to me."

He eyed the book as the corner of it peeked out of his pack and a smile crossed his lips. He was thinking of the happiness that had come to Galadir and Kalë, and the many children they now had. He told Legolas all about it, when suddenly it hit him, "Legolas! That last entry! It must have been the day the Fellowship arrived in Balin's tomb! And it was followed by the flight of the Colters!

Legolas smiled broadly and they froze for a moment. Then swiftly Sammy jumped up and began packing their things. Then they crawled back out of the room and they backtracked to the place where they found the shirt. They followed the footsteps as they traversed over the dusty rock, down into the dells, and over the vast hills. Sammy was panting heavily, but he could not stop. He watched the ground, reading it's every revelation and found the prints intermingled with Orc prints. They continued on until finally by late evening, they found that the prints led out of a narrow opening at the foot of the mountain! It was the very spot that Sammy had entered in! He had come round in a full circle! The horses stood chewing the sweet grass as though Sammy had never left. The birds above were singing in special melody and the water trickled soothingly. Sammy sighed and Legolas smiled at the beauty of the wood, which was much appreciated after the dust and dark of the mines. But with his hand on his heart and a nod that gave Sammy full understanding, Legolas ducked back under and into the mines, disappearing from Sammy's life forever.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

**The Passing of the Elves**

The days rolled on, spring was getting old. Sammy had ridden quite far and now he was beginning to grow impatient. The mountains loomed forever unending to his right and the land changed ever slowly. Rocky and barren it was, though not as brown as his father's words had described it. Holly continued to grow in abundance and there were many small animals enjoying the windy terrain. It was as though the land was recovering as spring nourished it.

Then, finally, one more day had passed when his impatience was cured. He could see the great river Bruinen slowly come into view, and the land thickened with brush and great pine trees. Then just as relieving, the sight of the Great East Road stirred excitement in him. Here, is where his heart was pulled in two, for he had great desire to go on, swiftly to the Shire. But the pull from Imladris was ever greater and weary as he was from the hard ride, the thought of rest and serenity was most inviting. So he guided the horses to the right and rode on, his heart beating fast as he anticipated his first sight of this great historical place.

It was early evening as he rounded the bend on the mountain pass and entered the bridge. The great house came into view and immediately he recognized its elegant architecture. It reminded him of home. The splendor of the falls echoing through the canyon, surrounded by the early spring blossoms, soothed his swift beating heart. He stopped for a moment to drink it all in. His eyes fell upon a balcony, its rail eloquently ornate with elvish flavors. He envisioned his mother standing there and looking out, dreaming of the day she would be in his father's arms. He could almost hear her song as the water flowed in melody.

Then his thought settled upon his memory of Elrond. It made him miss his kind tenor voice and the times that they had sung together celebrating his father's poetry. But the view was strange although still beautiful and as he proceeded closer it became apparent, that the place was unkempt and abandoned. He had expected to find elves, though he knew their numbers would be few...little did he know that they had left as he was making his final preparations to sail from his home in Eressëa.

And by now, the Lady Galadriel, a treasure to behold, would have welcomed into her arms her beloved Celeborn. And the famous Glorfindel, with the twin sons of Elrond, would be exploring the glory of Aman with _his _twin brothers, Merry and Pippin.

He found the stables around the back. He was thankful there was still straw available for the horses to munch on as he made them comfortable. Then he slowly headed to the house feeling a little intrusive and looking about for someone -anyone. The gardens were overgrown, littered with debris from a windy fall and cold winter. Still, spring blossoms managed to find their way to birth and the new green of the bushes and plants were bright and happy in the sunlight.

Inside, the massive house all was quiet and slightly eerie. He called out but no one answered. It took him a few minutes to become accustomed to the quiet. Soon, he got a fire going in the great hearth and went into the kitchen to see what he could find. He opened cupboard after cupboard, picked out a teapot, found a cup and to his delight found a canister filled halfway with a sweet smelling tea. He settled down in front of the fire and opened his pack.

"Let's see," he said aloud to no one. "Aha, here we have dried meat, whey bread, and apples! Mmmm, all will be very tasty, yes!"

He laughed at his silliness and suddenly the whistle blew for his tea. The night slowly faded to dark shadows as he ate and soon after, he grew sleepy. He found the nearest bedroom and wandered inside feeling a little like an invading burglar. He was curious of the elf that had lived there, but there was nothing identifying a personality. He removed the top blanket on the bed. The remaining covers still smelled clean and fresh, but there was a thick layer of dust on all the furniture. Yet he was thankful, it was better than sleeping on the ground for a change and his slumbers were soft and peaceful that night.

The next morning, he explored the house. He was very relieved to find that they had not left the library full and abandoned, although he would have liked to indulge in a book or two. Everything was gone, packed off somewhere. Then he remembered the vast library that Arwen had made in Minas Tirith and he smiled in remembrance of her accomplishment, then of her beauty.

He could not sit idle in rest for too many days, though he did not want to leave just yet. Silly as it was, he could not help but clean up the gardens. To make them brilliant and wondrous again, just to see what they could be. He worked for several days, knowing all along that, when he left, it would eventually all decay again. But he just had to see it, to enjoy it as his mother and father had. And when he was done he spent another few days indulging in its splendor. But the pull of the Shire came upon him again and off he rode to his life anew.

* * *

Far, far away in a land called Eressëa, a ship slowly sailed into its harbor as a gentle wind carried the northern scent to the sunny shores. The birds fluttered about, aroused in the thickness of the anticipation. The green land and rocky cliffs seemed to wrap its arms around the boat in peaceful welcome. Many elves of all races waited in nervous murmur for the ropes to be thrown. Smiles graced those most anxious and none could stand still.

Elladan poked Glorfindel, unable to contain the excitement and the great elf took him in a headlock pulling him on his ears.

"Patience!" scolded Elrohir. "Compose yourselves before you drive me to madness!"

Laughter filled the wind. Celeborn looked over at them and grinned. And as it happens with every ship to arrive, a running start into whirling hugs sealed the ending of long separations.

Celebrian ran her fingers down each cheek of her twins, marveling at how mature they had become. Tears welled in her eyes and they hugged her repeatedly sometimes at the same time in earnest sighs. Elrond proudly pounded their backs and grasped Glorfindel's shoulders shaking him with laugher.

Celeborn, the last to disembark, took his daughter into his arms and held her tightly. Now Celebrian's tears flowed freely as she looked into her father's eyes.

"It has been far too long, Ada!" She cried hugging him again. She then turned and directed him to where Galadriel was standing, waiting patiently as she basked in the lovely reunion of her loved ones.

The look on his face when he saw his wife was that of their first meeting. Her beauty had never been greater in his eyes and he was stricken numb at first, unable to move. But she warmly took him into her arms and as she kissed his lips softly, he felt as though he was home again.

Elladan stepped back and out of the corner of his eye a bright blue dress and eyes of crystal glistened to call his attention. He turned and in seconds thoughts flew through his mind of old memories and good times. He waited for reaction to invite him forth, unsure whether their history had been held in adoration. But a smile with a wink eased his fears and quickly drew him into her arms.

"Oh, Adreal, I have missed you!" He said as though he was only now realizing the significance of it.

She did not answer, for swiftly she fell upon his lips revealing her thoughts to be the same. But self control forced them to recall the others, who were looking on in amusement. Celebrian's eyes lit up in approval and Elrond laughed naughtily.

Glorfindel had made his way through the crowd of elves hugging and reminiscing. Finally his eyes fell upon the gathering of very small creatures on the far side of the dock. It was Frodo and Meli with their children. He couldn't believe his eyes. The last time he had seen them, they were pale, wrought with pain and suffering. But now here they stood healthy, rosy cheeks and bright eyes revealing their happiness. It was the first time he saw them together and he marveled at how their love and this place had brought out their beauty. He rushed before them and kneeled as they warmly hugged him, Meli first, then Frodo.

"You are a wonder to my eyes!" he cried. "I am so happy to see you!"

Frodo laughed, "Ah, our great friend! We are so happy to see _you_!"

Meli's eyes misted as she said, "Yes, yes! We have waited so long for this day!"

She then turned and motioned for their children to step forth and one by one she introduced them. Politely each bowed or curtsied as Glorfindel greeted them with thoughts of pride and amazement that they were already full grown.

And once again Frodo proudly explained Eowyn's golden hair, "It is the Tookish side of my family…"

Glorfindel laughed as he remembered Pippin and his antics. "Ah, but here I see an exceptional beauty, far greater than little Pippin Took has ever seen!" Eowyn brightly blushed and giggled.

Little Bilbo was next and shyly bowed dramatically before the great elf. Glorfindel graciously took his little hand and held it between his as he winked and smiled at him. "A handsome sight you are Master Baggins. Why I see the light of your Grandfather Geren in those eyes," he proclaimed.

Bilbo grinned proudly and bowed once again, wordless and timid.

Merry stepped forward in his turn standing straight with eyes wide and extended his hand. Here before him was the hero of his favorite childhood tales; Glorfindel the great, mighty warrior and slayer of Balrogs! Pippin stood slightly behind just as eager, clenching and unclenching his hands as though flexing before a great dive.

Glorfindel could see the manhood blooming in their stature and as he took each hand he felt the strength of the childhood escapades that these young Peredhil had experienced. He wondered within his thought if they were anything like their namesakes. To him they looked shy but merry, elegant yet earthly, all at the same time. He noted their dark hair and misty eyes; they were most like the Colters.

Just then Elrohir and Elladan with Adreal in tow came upon them. Elrohir smiled brightly at the little ones that tickled his fancy and Elladan respectfully kneeled to shake Merry's hand.

Glorfindel boomed his grand laugh and said "I can see the fun we will be having in this place; surrounded by mighty twins!" He turned to Pippin, "You _will _show us around the island won't you?"

Pippin eagerly cried, "Yes! Wait till you see the caves and the cliffs over the Bay of Eldamar!" Merry joined in just as eager, "And the Land of Elms! We can climb the old tower of Kortirion!" Elladan's eyes lit up at this and he squeezed Merry's hand, "It all sounds wonderful! I can't wait!"

They all gathered that night in the celebratory hall in the center of Avallónë. The twins of Elrond and Glorfindel could not contain their joyous mood; it was the grandest revelry ever to shake this tiny island. It fed the natural merriment of the Colters and dispelled the composure of the Halladur!

Many toasts were raised high with earnest words speaking in awe of friendship and family. Dancing and singing abounded. And then later, they took a moment to breathe as Bilbo in his greatest form, performed a re-enactment of the cleansing of King Théoden –a cleansing of the evil that had invaded his mind.

Every eye was on him and silence filled the hall as he articulated each character with a different voice and accent. He began with the rider's entrance describing the bright and clear morning that they arrived. He described their passing over the rutted hoof prints of the stream below the great hill of Edoras. His description of a land he had never been to was chillingly accurate as though he had lived there all his life. Gandalf was amazed at this little one's memory of this tale he had told him when he was much younger; especially the accuracy of Aragorn's chant.

_**Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? **_

_**Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing? **_

_**Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?**_

_**Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?**_

_**They have past like rain on the mountain, like a wind on the meadow;**_

_**The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.**_

_**Who shall gather smoke of the dead wood burning,**_

_**Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?**_

Silence filled the hall as the suspense grew within the tale and then released. Chills ran down Gandalf's back as Bilbo cried out, "Now, lord, look out upon your land! Breathe the free air again!"

Then again as he softly spoke in perfect verbatim, **_"Dark have been my dreams of late, but I feel as one new-awakened. I would now that you had come before, Gandalf. For I fear that already you have come too late, only to see the last days of my house."_**

Bilbo's audience sat in stillness as the lumps filled many throats and the tale unfolded ending with Théoden's firm grasp of his sword and his call to arms.

_**Arise now, arise, Riders of Théoden! **_

_**Dire deeds awake, dark is it eastward. **_

_**Let horse be bridled, horn be sounded! **_

_**Forth Eorlingas! **_

The hall erupted in applause and calls of "Command us" echoed from those who knew the story. The celebratory mood burned on with more vigor than before. They stayed through the night into the early hours of the morn as the celebration held them with wishes of unending until glee slowly faded into sleepiness.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33 **

**The Shire**

It was late spring of 1458 by the Shire reckoning. A little Hobbit with two big horses rode along the path into Hobbiton with his eyebrows raised and his heart trembling. Everything was just as he had imagined from his childhood tales, only greener and brighter with hills that rolled and a sky so blue that he felt as though his eyes absorbed it. Again, just as it had been in Minas Tirith, he received many stares from everyone he passed. And here amidst this land of long ago tales was a sight to stir Hobbit gossip if ever there was one.

Two children were playing in a field, buried up to their waist with swaying wildflowers and patches of wild grasses. A butterfly swirled around the little girl's curls and she shrieked with delight in runaway twirls. Sammy watched with amusement as the boy chased her in swoops and giggles until they caught sight of him and stopped with a curious gaze. As soon as Sammy raised his hand in a friendly wave, they ran off shouting something he could not understand. He laughed and rode on.

The horses seemed confident and at home, they flexed their strong muscles and pranced along with a firm clop, clop. Sammy looked around the corner of a barn as he passed it and his eyes met with a chubby old man and a stern faced woman. He nodded smiling slightly, for the fear inside him set his mind to whirling.

"What if they don't like me?" He thought as panic began to creep in and mingle with the delight that tickled him for his first sight of other Hobbits.

He rounded the bend and from the directions he was given he knew he was almost there. His nerves began to show as sweat beaded on his forehead and slipped into hiding within his absorbing curls. He carefully wiped it away with his handkerchief, wanting to look his very best. After all, this was the man he had wanted to meet all of his life. This man was the true hero, one he admired and respected above all -his father's best friend and best of all, his namesake. He found the hole, there was no mistaking it. It was so familiar, he almost felt like he had been there before. He tied the horses to the post and went through the gate, his knees faltering slightly as he walked up the path. He inhaled the honeysuckle that covered a window almost completely, off to the side. Then, just as he reached the door and lifted his hand to knock, it opened surprisingly! He thought his heart would burst from his mouth. Standing before him was an older man, about seventy or so. But he knew him!

For long seconds he did not know what to say. Here he was, face to face with Samwise Gamgee! All he could do was gape wide-eyed as he noted that the elder Sam was equally unsettled. Neither had expected to find anyone at the door so abruptly -much less someone so familiar. Now both stared in shock as their minds raced. The elder Sam was trying to make sense of who, this could be and the younger was wondering how to present him self in this awkward moment.

"Are…are you Samwise Gamgee, Sir?" The young one finally managed to ask. But before he received a reply he found himself catching the elder as he teetered, still gaping with shock.

Luckily there was a small bench next to the door and as Sammy helped him settle down upon it Sam answered him with his voice breaking. "Mr. Frodo?" He shook his head as if to clear it, "I…I'm sorry, I thought you were…" he looked at Sammy once more with his eyes squinting. "But garn, if you don't look exactly like him! Why, you…you are wearing his cloak!"

"I am very sorry, Sir! I did not mean to startle you!" Sammy cried. He noted the flush on Sam's face and began to feel bad about surprising him in this way.

Just in that moment a woman came out of the house and saw Sam sitting on the bench, flustered and red. With one look at her husband's face she became alarmed and said, "Sam, are you alright?" But then she looked at Sammy and quickly clasped her hand over her mouth as she said in a hushed whisper, "Mr. Frodo!"

They both gaped at Sammy for a few awkward seconds, dumbfounded and again Sammy was speechless; his mouth just would not move. He pursed his lips, revealing his deep dimples and mustered his courage. Then with great pride he stood tall as he could, bowed his head and proclaimed, "I am Samwise Geren Baggins, _son_ of Frodo!" As he raised his head, a great smile burst from his lips. Suddenly he realized the joy of the moment and then he said, "But everyone calls me Sammy."

Sam's eyes grew wide as he finally understood and he cried, "Rosie, this is Mr. Frodo's _son_!" Now, as it all became clear he jumped up laughing and crying. He took Sammy into a great hug and began rocking him around as if to make up for all lost time.

Tears peeked out of his eyes and trickled down his flushed cheeks as he cried, "I can't believe it! Rosie! It's Mr. Frodo's son! Come in, come in! Are you here to stay! Oh please stay…for as long as you want! Rosie! It's Frodo's son!"

"I know, I know, "she cried laughing and she gave Sammy a warm earnest hug of her own, of course in a much gentler way. Her scent of daffodils melted his heart with a soft motherly air about her that made him feel comfort, and at once his adoration for her blossomed.

The next thing Sammy knew many children came bounding out of the house and surrounded him with squeals and giggles as they pulled him inside the hole, calling "Frodo, Frodo!"

Sammy was laughing hard in the midst of the merriment and he wondered why they were calling him, 'Frodo'. He was sure that his father had left long before any of them were born. How did they know he looked like him? But once inside it became clear as they entered the parlor. Hanging above the hearth was a large charcoal drawing. It was the very likeness of his father and it made him gasp as his eyes fell upon it.

The children settled down and led him to the sofa, gathering around him with eagerness to hear what he might say. Rosie and Sam settled into deep chairs, equally as curious.

Rosie noted Sammy's interest in the portrait. She said, "It was drawn by our _son_, Frodo. He's very good, isn't he? He went about gathering descriptions from everyone who knew your father." Then she laughed and said, "Please excuse my children for assaulting you. They have heard tales and songs about Frodo Baggins all of their lives and are a little bit excited."

"And me too!" cried the elder Sam laughing through misty eyes and jumping up from the chair, unable to sit with his excitement.

Rosie stood also, to tend the fire and put water on for tea, as Sam nervously introduced the children, calling them to stand before him as he began to call off their names. "This is Merry, Pippin, Hamfast and Daisy." He paused, then looked around and said, "Now where is Goldilocks…anywise, now here is Ruby and Primrose, Daisy, oh yeah I already said Daisy, and our little Bilbo, and Robin…ah here's my beautiful Goldilocks!" She entered the room carrying tea and blushed as her father continued. "And finally here is our youngest, Tom at a green age of 16!"

"Pop!" cried Tom, embarrassed. But young as he was he knew his manners and stepped forward to politely shake Sammy's hand. Sammy stood to receive him and was surprised at the firmness of the youngster's grip.

Sam then said, "Our three oldest, Elanor, Frodo and Rose are not here right now. Come on," he called to the other children, "shake Mr. Sammy's hand!"

The others followed Tom, each one in turn bowing or shaking his hand as he said to them all, "Oh please, just call me Sammy!"

Goldilocks' turn came about, and as shy as she was, she also apologized for the mobbing to which Sammy smiled and said, "Aw, I did not mind at all…it kind of reminds me of home with _my_ brothers and sisters."

To that, Sam looked at him with surprise and asked, "How many children does Mr. Frodo have and who is your mother and where did he meet her…oh, I have a thousand questions!"

Sammy smiled, very well prepared for questions. "Well, Sir, I will be happy to tell all. However, it is a long story. May I inquire as to the location of Master Meriadoc and Thain Peregrin? I would love to meet them and have them hear everything as well."

Sam replied, "Yes! You are right! Hamfast, run and get your Uncles! We are in luck! They will be just settling in at the Green Dragon, wondering where I am! You see we usually meet every Tuesday..."

But before Sam could finish they came bursting through the door, demonstrating how fast word travels in the Shire.

"Frodo!" cried Pippin as his eyes fell on Sammy. "They said Frodo was back!" yelled Merry in unison. They both stopped cold. Unbelieving their eyes as Pippin whispered, "It cannot be. You haven't aged a day."

"No, no!" said Sam as tears again welled up in his eyes. "This is Frodo's _son_!"

Sammy slowly stepped forward, wide-eyed and dumbfounded with awe. He bowed his head and offered his hand, "I…I am Samwise Geren Baggins. I am very pleased to meet you," he said reverently.

But instead of taking his hand they both embraced him, roaring with laughter. Then Sam joined in, all four hugging tight and long; as tears wet their faces. Even Sammy's eyes were wet, for the love they poured forth was thick in the air and it was all that could be breathed.

Finally they settled down at the table, wiping their tears with their sleeves and gracing huge smiles while nervous fingers tapped away at the table. They sipped their tea as Sammy began speaking, "I decided the Shire was the place for me, after all I heard of it. I have a love of music, things that grow, and I am interested in the working of wood. My tastes are more towards those of the Hobbits, although I love my kin with all my soul."

He stopped for a second, reflecting on the family he left behind, then he continued a little softer, "Well, and there was the whole of Middle Earth to see and I wanted an adventure before I settled down. I guess I inherited that part from Uncle Bilbo." He laughed.

"Mr. Bilbo!" piped Sam as he sat up. "Surely, he's not still alive!"

"No, no." said Sammy sadly. "He passed just shortly after my youngest brother was born, his namesake you know. I think he lived to be about one hundred and forty five years in Shire reckoning. He used to sit with me at bedtime and he would tell me stories. I remember him very well."

They sat silent for a moment deep into their thoughts of Bilbo and yet wondered if there was any other way to count time.

Rosie came in and said "Supper will be ready in a while. Sam, please help Sammy put the horses in the barn and bring in his belongings."

Sammy being very polite said, "Oh, I do not want to be a bother."

"No, no," cried Sam "you must stay here, please! We can fix up our Frodo lad's old room. He is now living out at Michel Delving working on the Rose Garden he is putting in around the museum."

"Rose Garden! I should like to see that sometime!" cried Sammy with great interest.

"Oh we'll show you _everything!_" Said Sam, "Anyway, we have plenty of room. Elanor has gone off and married and that leaves Rose lass as the oldest home now. But she is away much of the time as apprentice to Mr. Hardbottle, working her medicine and birthing little animals. Come on."

"Come, Merry, we can help as well." said Pippin unnecessarily as Merry jumped up.

As they passed through the door Sam suddenly noticed the horses for the first time. "Bless me, if you are not full of even more surprises!"

The horses were standing in the lane, and when they saw Sammy come out of the house they stamped the ground as if they were as happy as pups to see him.

Merry stroked Evenstar and exclaimed, "Strong and solid they are, just like the horse Gandalf rode. I think his name was Shadowfax."

Sammy nodded, "Yes, in fact Gandalf brought Shadowfax with him to Aman and these are of his line. I helped birth them and they have been with me all of their lives. Their names are Strider and Evenstar."

To that Pippin looked at Sammy with wonderment and laughed. "The King shall like those names!" He cried.

"Yes as a matter of fact, he did very much" declared Sammy. I shall tell you all about my visit there. He sends messages for you all."

They made the horses as comfortable as they could in the little barn and carried his things to the house. Then they sat down to supper and as they ate, Sammy told them of his voyage across the sea and then of his visits throughout Middle Earth emphasizing the most on Minas Tirith. When they were done, Sammy pulled a bundle from one of his packs.

"King Elessar sent messages to all of you," he said as he handed out envelopes, all elegantly scribed with their names. He even had one for each of the children and as he placed it in their hands, they ran off in delight, feeling quite special to have their very own message from the King. Each note had well wishes for whatever events were unique to their lives and special stories and anecdotes for amusement. For the adults there was news of the lands and special requests associated with their responsibilities. And each and every one had special words of adoration and friendship. Aragorn loved his Hobbit friends and it truly showed through his words.

Finally, all gathered around the fire in the sitting room for pipe smoke and tales all told of course by Sammy. Taking a deep breath he began first by telling a little bit about each of his siblings. Merry and Pippin were delighted at their namesakes, especially when Sammy spoke of his brother's mischievous and playful nature. But when Sammy spoke of their love for the water and their diving skills, they both shuttered.

"That must be a trait they inherited from your Mother", jested Pippin, remembering Frodo's swimming skills.

And Pip smiled with pride when he learned of little Eowyn's beautiful Tookish features, but then quickly changed to a sigh of sadness when he realized he would never get to see her.

"No, I am afraid I am the only Hobbit of the children." Sammy said and then a cloud of sadness came over his face as he remembered how he had broken his family's hearts.

"Don't feel sad, Sammy" said Sam, suddenly in understanding. "If I know Mr. Frodo, he is at peace with it. He would know your heart and would want you to be happy."

"That is very true", said Merry, trying to help and in total agreement.

Sammy sighed deeply and Pippin eagerly begged, "Come on, Sammy! Tell us who your mother is! Hey, wait a minute! What do you mean by 'the only Hobbit of the children'? Surely, your mother is not elvish!"

Merry smacked Pippin on the arm, "Of course she is elvish! Surely there are no Hobbits in the Undying Lands!"

Sam scolded impatiently, "Oh, come on you two! There must be some explanation! Frodo couldn't marry an elf!"

Sammy laughed, "But my mother _is_ an elf!" Sam looked at him dumbfounded as Sammy continued. "She is of the Colter Elves! They are the size of Hobbits!"

Now, the three of them looked at Sammy in total confusion. "A Colter Elf?" asked Merry.

"What is a Colter Elf?" asked, Sam.

"I have never heard of _them_." said Pippin. Then, turning to face Merry, he asked, "Have you, Merry?"

"No, I can't say that I have," Merry said with such a look of bewilderment that it made Sammy laugh.

"Forgive me!" He said giggling in a teasing voice, "My father told me how funny you all can be and he was right!"

The next thing he knew, he was on the floor being tickled and ribbed by three old Hobbits who had never lost their merriment! The children all joined in and with much cutting up they all ended up laughing until their bellies hurt and they could move no more.

Merry breathlessly said, "Please forgive us, Sammy! We used to cut up like this all the time with Frodo." Then he blushed with embarrassment as he said, "I guess we got carried away."

Sammy shook his head weary from laughing and said, "No, Merry. Do not apologize! It makes me feel like I am at home." Then with a snicker he continued, "I will just have to get you all back somehow!"

Rosie and Goldilocks entered the room from cleaning up the supper dishes and they shook their heads with smiles as they eyed the mound of laughing Hobbit here and there sprawled all over the floor. With easing laughter, they all gathered themselves up and with heavy sighs and with tangled hair, they settled down to hear Sammy continue his story. He spoke now as if he were reading word for word from little Bilbo's book.

"They were of the firstborn, immortal elves, gifted with beauty and wisdom. Colter Elves, they call themselves although all other races of elves may object to the later part since they are so different. For they are small and merry like Hobbits; though they do not have furry feet…yet they hold the elegant wonder of the firstborn, deep within their souls.

Once again he spoke long into the night, this time telling his mothers story in full and there were many tears and many of those were his own -for this telling was the most emotive of all. When he finally got to the part where Frodo first laid eyes on Meli, the Hobbits all sighed with happiness. But it was short lived as the part came next of Frodo finding out about the spell. This was the most difficult part for Sam and he became very distraught. But Sammy offered him much comfort as he spoke of his parent's happiness together for all of these years.

Sam smiled a smile of relief, "So, Mr. Frodo finally found peace. It is wonderful that he was so blessed. For the bad was turned to good and the sad to happiness. I shall join him someday and I will carry tidings of your life here in the Shire with me, dear Sammy. I hope they are as blessed as well."

Author's note: Hang tight:) More to come!


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

**A Heart so Tender**

It was 2 o'clock in the morning. Sammy couldn't sleep. The excitement of the night bubbled within him and he could not stop thinking about Samwise Gamgee and all of the other Hobbits. His mind wandered around the conversations they had, the adorable children, the sweet scent of Mrs. Rosie and even the sight of furry feet on _everyone_, no longer just his father and himself. It delighted him to no end.

He tossed and turned, smiled and then giggled out loud. Finally he sat up with thoughts of writing it all down in his journal. "Maybe that will make me sleepy," he thought.

But there was a chill in the room as sometimes happens when one resides in a hole in the ground, so he got up and went into the parlor carrying his journal. The fire bellowed tiny sparks as he stoked it to get it blazing again and with a whoosh it flared up into a soothing roar. Sammy settled back upon two pillows on the sofa and drew his knees up to hold the book. Deep thoughts swirled in his mind for a moment or two, until he began to write with words that flowed swiftly. He was deep into the sixth page when he began to nod and before he reached the seventh, sleepiness finally came upon him. His head nodded twice, the book fell forward and his legs slipped down upon the cushion as his body slipped slowly into a deep slumber.

The house was silent, save the cackle of the fire as the front door gently clicked and a young, Hobbit lass, entered the room. With a smile on her face, she almost began to say 'Hullo Pop'. But she stopped short when she saw it wasn't whom she thought. She approached him slowly to see who he was, being cautious not to wake him. She began to smile as she neared the sofa.

"Who is this?" she thought, admiring his looks -his soft brown hair tussled and thick and his lashes lying like feathers upon his cheeks. "He is so familiar. How do I know him?" She jumped as he stirred a little, revealing the coma like dimples that kept him apart from his father. "No, I would remember _him_," she decided.

She stood and watched Sammy sleep for a moment or two, and then carefully she took up a throw from a chair and placed it over him, wondering if she should remove the book from his chest. Suddenly she had the urge to touch him, to stroke his brow, and caress his lips. He was breathing softly, his strong chest was rising up and down and she noted the fine material his shirt was made of. It had subtle weavings barely visible within the threads with designs that reminded her of the elvish art that her father had spoken of. And on the cuff of his sleeve was embroidered a tiny yellow rose.

She could have stood there and watched him all night, wanting badly to awaken him. But she held back in courtesy and flittering bashfulness. Finally, she went off to bed, utterly exhausted from attending a sick pony since the early morning hours of the previous day. But tired as she was, it took her a long time to fall asleep, for her mind would not leave the stranger. She wondered who he was and from whence he came.

It was several hours after dawn when Rose, daughter of Samwise, awoke to the sound of her younger siblings, laughing and giggling.

Robin called out, "Sammy, Sammy!"

Immediately Rose's eyes opened with remembrance of the startling discovery from the night before. She heard an unfamiliar voice talking -it was sweet and mellow. Quickly she rose and dressed, careful to put every hair in place and smooth every wrinkle from her dress. Curiosity was mounting as she entered the kitchen ever closer to the sound of his voice in the dining room. Peeking around the corner she saw him once again. Her little sisters were all around him.

"What is that?" Ruby asked pointing to a small intricate frame, straight on one side and eloquently curved on the other. It had many strings stretched across it, shimmering in shiny gold. And carved all along the outside of the soft brown wood were runes in delicate swirls and bold colors. A tiny flute was attached to one side, in readiness for a burst of inspiration.

"Well, '_that'_ is a musical instrument." Sammy said smiling at her. He was tickled at how adorable she was. Her soft brown hair fell into tiny swirls that framed her chubby little face. She was wearing a pink dress with tiny purple flowers dotted around the hem of her skirt. And her tiny little feet had smooth fur that was only just beginning to burst into curls. He had the urge to pick her up and cuddle her as he did for all of the Hobbit children he had seen.

"What kind of instrument?" she asked.

"I don't have a name for it. I designed it and my sister Eowyn, helped me to craft it. Would you like to hear it play?" Sammy asked as he picked it up.

"Yes!" She squealed excitedly.

"Alright, let me see," he said in a sweet voice. "Oh I know. These are words that my father wrote. He always said they were not very good, that they didn't do justice to the moment he first saw Aman, with my mother by his side. But I like them and I put them to music anyway. It goes like this."

"Aman!" thought Rose as she continued to spy. Now her curiosity had peaked and she dared to take one step further, poking her head around the corner so she could see his face. Then it hit her as her fresh and rested mind recalled the drawing in the parlor and the name of Frodo Baggins spilled in whisper from her lips. "Is this his son?" She asked herself. But her thoughts were stolen into distraction as the music began.

Sammy plucked softly at the strings and the words he sang were golden as they flowed from his lips like soft velvet. The sound of the strings played variously intricate. His talent was evident as he worked the notes as easily as he breathed.

Rose's heart was complete in that very moment, her breath taken away into the smooth tenor of his voice. And she was oblivious if the words were not very good. To her, they were enlightening as if an early spring day had entered in from a cold and darkly winter.

**_A night of rain in darkly gloom _**

_**To hold my pain in haunting doom**_

_**The voices taunt inside my head**_

_**Lingering, ere the softness of bed**_

_**Then rain comes down so thick, so cold**_

_**In pelting chants, my presence holds**_

**_Yet as the darkly echo grows_**

_**Cleansed am I in scents of rose**_

**_Now through the mist a song glimmers_**

**_Sweetened stars with silver shimmers_**

_**Love's gift arrives in warm embrace**_

_**To heal my heart, caress my face**_

**_The grey rain-curtain turns to silver glass_**

_**And parts across the sea at last**_

_**The sun bursts cross the waves in glory**_

_**To wrap us warm in golden morning**_

_**Beyond white sands and tittering waves**_

_**Lies land so green with echoing caves**_

_**With birds that flitter in golden light**_

_**They sing with wonder at this sight**_

**_And what is this that I foresee_**

_**A healing hand that touches me**_

**_And though love's pain is mine to hold_**

_**It touches her as well I'm told **_

_**And ever more our love grows sweet**_

_**Amidst this land that we will meet**_

_**New fellowship arises here**_

_**With those we hold in hearts so dear**_

The girls were silent, enchanted by the loveliness of the music as he played on with an intricate instrumental; the notes sang deep and sultry then fleeting soft, alluring. He stopped and sighed as memory of his parents tugged at him, but he shook it off with the tickle of a few lively cords and then he fell into a swift and gleeful tune. The girls squealed with delight and began dancing all around him. Rose could not hold back; she entered the room clapping in perfect rhythm, laughing and dancing.

Sammy was so startled with his first sight of her, he almost dropped his instrument! But his skill was brilliant and with complete recovery, he resumed playing as if the messed up notes were part of the song. He watched her dance, guiding the music to her movement. He could not take his eyes off her as his emotions exploded through the sound. The next thing he knew, everyone in the house stopped what they were doing and joined in the fun as the room filled with melodic giggles. Sam and Rosie came too, and Sammy chuckled over the way the elder couple got silly, dancing in twists and swirls to the gleeful notes right along with the children. Never before had he experienced such enthusiasm and glee with reaction to his music. They would not let him stop for a while, coaxing song after song from him until he finally collapsed on the sofa in exhausted laughter and his eyes sweetly upon young Rose.

It was three months later and Sammy had settled into a comfortable lifestyle oblivious to the murmurings that flowed around the Shire. Most revered him, the son of a notorious and respected hero. Many found him to be a delight that fulfilled their longing for Frodo. However, a few of the Hobbits were stuck in their ways in spite of the pain of war; they called him odd and 'cracked like his Dad' as they cackled through their ale. Then they would discuss his arrival on the mighty horses from a land most did not believe in and declared the Baggins blood to be 'poisoned by that Wizard'. Sammy had bonded so thoroughly with the Gamgees and the other Hobbits, that it wasn't something that was immediately obvious to him.

He had never intended to live with the Gamgees, he had even commented about looking into some property. He definitely did not want to be a burden to anyone.

Sam cancelled those plans right away insisting, "There was always a Baggins in Bag End…well, until your Pop left. But it's the way it should be! After all, it belonged to _your_ Father. This is _your_ home and always will be, as long as you want to stay."

He was loved and belonged to them now as all of Sam's children took to him, especially the little ones who had become enthralled by Sammy's presence. Sam's oldest child, Elanor and her husband Fastred even made a special trip, to come out and meet him. Sammy was enthralled by her beauty and noted a special quality about her that was stronger than that of her siblings. Her hair was fairer and her green eyes held a deepness that reminded him of the Firstborn, though he knew she was Hobbit through and through. Yet she held a beauty about her, in fact all of the Hobbits from her age and younger, held a quality that kept them apart from all of the older Hobbits. It was almost as though they held a bit of elvish blood within them. But Elanor's was strongest of all and he watched her in wonder.

She approached Sammy, as he sat alone in the garden one morning and softly said, "I have something for you, dear Sammy." She opened a large black satchel, velvety and soft. But before she pulled the item from it, she looked up into his eyes. Her eyes twinkled as they moistened and Sammy felt them pierce his heart with reverence. She then pulled forth a book, the Red Book as was given to Sam by Frodo before he sailed.

Sammy gasped. He knew immediately what it was. He tenderly took hold of the book as she extended it to him and then she passed her hand across it as though its love could be absorbed. Then with no words she left him alone.

The little Peredhil retreated alone to his room to read the words as laid down by his Uncle Bilbo, then his father and then Sam. It took hours to soak them in, but he could not stop, forgoing all chores and plans for that day. And in the process he released many tears. It was surprisingly similar to it's re-creation by his little brother, Bilbo. But its stark reality, especially the part written in his father's suffering hand as the original account, was profound for Sammy. He continued into the evening alone in his room and when he was done, his heart was heavy with reverence for the accomplishments of all that took part and he was even more thankful now that he had met everyone involved. He sat in meditation; rocking back and forth between guilt for leaving his parents to smoothing his aching emotions with the love and support that they had given him. More tears came. He ran his hand over the soft red leather, just as Elanor had done. He too drew love from its covers and it settled deep within his soul.

Slowly he left his room and slipped down the dark hallway clutching the book to his heart. He reached Elanor's room and to his surprise she opened the door before he even knocked. Golden light slipped into the hallway and her silhouette on the door made her look tall and amazingly like Galadriel.

She smiled at Sammy and said, "I know, dear one. I understand how you must be feeling."

Sammy bowed his head to hide a new tear and said in a whisper to mask his pain, "Then you understand that I can not keep this." He looked up into her eyes and earnestly continued, "It belongs in a place of high keeping, a place of reverence."

"Yes." She said in understanding agreement. "Yes, it does. I shall make a place…a place where many books can be held for all to read. But the Red Book will hold a special place among them, and all shall have the opportunity to see and read it."

Sammy smiled in relief as he handed the book to her. "Thank you," he said and then quietly he slipped back to his room for a night of dreams that held him in his parents' arms.

A shimmering light slipped brightly through the thinner designs of the sheers that hung from the bedroom window of a home in Tol Eressëa. And it fell upon the lovely eyes of its Lady. Meli stirred in her sleep, a rare deep sleep that she only experience when her dreams came to her. The star penetrated her thought as the light softened and became a dream within a dream. She was on a small glade deep in the forest of Tuckburrow. Green grasses grew thickly, carpeting the clearing and the night had fallen like a darkly curtain that hung from the old trees. And there was her Sammy, her baby, toddling towards her, arms stretched out in silent asking for her to hold him once again. She scooped him up into a loving embrace and tears cleansed his cheeks with her love. Then Frodo appeared and took the two, deep within his arms and a peaceful calm settled upon their three hearts.

Sammy watched Rose every moment she was near and adored her. But the shyness he had inherited filled him to the brim and he could not even bring himself to begin conversation with her unless it threatened civility. She noticed of course and misunderstood, thinking she was alone in her own adoration. Pride kept her from becoming too bold with him and as result their relationship was distant and almost non-existent, even as friends.

However, Sammy became fast friends with Frodo, Sam's second born. He helped him, along with many others, to complete the rose garden at Michel Delving. The time and care they put into it was intense. Frodo focused on the planting and pruning of various species of bush, while the others laid rock borders, installed fountains and walkways with elaborate designs.

Sammy built and installed a lattice fence around the garden. However, it was his first real experience with wood of this scale and it turned out to be slightly uneven, crooked and the staining of the wood was blotchy and poor. Yet it was bordered with intricate carvings of trees and birds, with the same Elven elegance he had put into his instruments. It had taken him much time and he poured his all into it. Blind as he was to its flaws -he was really proud of it.

Finally a lovely pavilion was installed on the south side of the garden, east of the museum property. It was surrounded by a lush green lawn, an area large enough to hold many for grand celebrations.

When all was done, they held a grand opening with most of the Shire turning out to feast and marvel at the lovely creation. The day couldn't have been better as the sunshine slipped lazily through the bluest sky of the season. The birds and butterflies flitted abundantly around the rosy creation and it seemed like a small paradise within the gardens. Sammy stood proudly near the fence, as little by little the Hobbits arrived. He shook the hands of those he had already met, making conversation and mingling cheerfully, yet he was still a bit too shy to speak to those he did not know.

After a while, he began wandering through the crowd, enjoying the sight of so many Hobbits, all mingling in chatter and laughter. It was his first experience at a gathering in fellowship and it put him into a jovial mood. Everyone was dressed in marvelous colors, with flowers in their hair or on their jackets and their feet, combed and smoothed. And all seemed to have a morsel of food or cup of delight in their hand. Sammy smacked his lips in anticipation of the sweet lemonade that Rose was handing out. He meandered over to the table nonchalantly, hoping she would be the one to serve him out of the four or five inside the booth. But the crowd was large so he had to stand in line for a few moments.

Then by accident he overheard some comments coming from a group in front of him. They were oblivious to his presence and earshot as they praised the carvings on the fence, calling it quality work. Sammy beamed with pride. But then a crass old Hobbit, Doderic Brandybuck piped in with rude comments about the skill put into the rest of the fence. It pierced Sammy's pride with a burning as he heard him say, "Surely they won't let it stand. It has got to come down, as horrible as it looks." Then matters became worse when he heard several other Hobbits agree and the conversation turned to the absurd arrival of the Peredhil. More harsh things were said.

Sammy slipped away in embarrassment, quickly forgetting the compliments. He was far too sensitive about it all, letting these few Hobbits and this one incident bring his entire world crashing down upon this fine day. His mood grew heavy as he slipped away, burying himself in crushing self doubt as he kept to himself near the gate of the garden, propped against a willow in shadow. He had wanted very badly to fit in with the Hobbits, intending to make this his permanent home for life. He had been happy here with all those he had met and even had enjoyed the attentions of a few girls, though Rose always held his after-thought. Still, his heart was too soft and wallowing in his history, he did not take this criticism well.

He watched the crowd for a long while feeling lonely and out of place. And to make matters worse, he noticed that a young handsome lad was hanging on Rose like a silly leech, flirting with her as they shared the booth where they were handing out the lemonade. Frodo-lad was busy answering questions and proudly guiding the dignitaries around. Sam and Rosie were busy minding the children's games with their own children commissioned to help. And now, Merry and Pippin were engaging in loud laughter and bantering with the same group of Hobbits that had spoken so rudely. Sammy felt all alone, useless and silly as he sat brooding. He was unsure of what to do and held thoughts of living in solitude, feeding the falls of Imladris with his tears.

The afternoon slipped onward as everyone mingled, feasted and toured the gardens. Rose left the lemonade stand with her flirting lad in tow, to help the other women-folk replenish the food table.

"He looks silly, helping the women," thought Sammy with disgust and he slunk deeper into his gloom.

The children continued to be pre-occupied with the lush lawn and the many toys that had been brought out. And now Mrs. Rosie, Sam and Frodo-lad had settled upon lawn chairs with glasses of cold lemonade by their sides and mounds of cookies being passed as desert. All thought of Sammy throughout the afternoon and often looked around for him. But they each assumed he was busy with the tourists or mingling somewhere, getting to know the others.

Finally, Frodo got up and stood on a make-shift dais that had been set upon the gazebo at the south end of the garden and called attention to himself with clinks on his glass. "Attention, fair Hobbits of the Shire! Attention!"

The Hobbits all dropped what they were doing and gathered on the lawn in curious murmurs. Frodo waited patiently as they all settled down and soon the murmur softened in anticipation of what he had to say.

"Welcome and well wishes to all!" he cried with a crack of enthusiasm in his voice. "Today we gather for the grand opening of these serene surroundings! A place to gather for _feast_…" Much applause arose with the sound of that word causing laughter as Frodo attempted to continue, his arms raised high. "…a place for music and joy!" More applause erupted.

Sammy slipped out of his cover and stood at the back of the crowd, curious.

Frodo waited a moment or two until the noise died down to silence. He lowered his arms and softened his tone, "a place one can go, when peace and solitude is desired."

The Hobbits murmured smoothly in agreement and Frodo continued, "I would also like to take this opportunity to thank all who contributed their time and efforts into creating this place."

The crowd politely applauded as he named all who had worked so hard.

Finally, at the last, Frodo said, "And last but certainly not least, I'd like to introduce to you all a very special person." He looked around for Sammy, found him and smiled at him with respect. "He built the fence you see here, and his Father is one you all know very well, a name that has been placed into our hearts forever. Please welcome Samwise Geren Baggins, _son_ of Frodo Baggins."

He gestured towards Sammy and all eyes were suddenly on the little Peredhil as his cheeks began to flush. Applause broke out. Sammy stepped back and bowed his head. He was burning with embarrassment and felt the urge to run, but knew better. Then to his horror, Frodo reached into a box and pulled out Sammy's homemade instrument.

"Come Sammy, play us a song!" he said jovially.

Sammy refused, soaked in his discomfiture, but the Hobbits were curious and they would not take 'no' for an answer. They pushed and pulled him to the stage with coaxing until soon he was in front of them all, holding his instrument and trembling. All fell quiet. Sammy drew a shuttering breath and slowly sat down on a stool that had been quickly provided. His mind raced, it was completely blank as he searched his memory for an appropriate song. The crowd began to murmur again with impatience.

Urgency to do something burned him. He began plucking in random tinkers, jamming away with intricate nonsense. Above in a tree a blue bird began chirping in annoying mockery. He stopped, looked up into the tree, and then began again. The first two or three cords were off, as his nerves bellowed through them. Driven by his mood he fell into a sad and mournful ballad. It was another of his Father's lyrics, with Sammy's own musical genius intricately entwined into the words. It began mesmerizing the crowd.

This song was the lonely story of a single bird, one of the Black Crebain that had spied the Fellowship as they trekked south along the Misty Mountains. It told of the bird's life in the evil darkness, tarrying unwillingly and singing into the blackness of the night, as his tired wings longed for goodness and the light of day. It drew forth echoing silence from the Hobbits as Sammy's velvety voice mingled eloquently with the sound of the strings; his fingers flowed smoothly through the elaborate notes. It was music, as no Hobbit of the Shire had ever heard.

He ended the song and all stayed quiet, they were not quite sure what to make of it. Sammy's heart pounded with disappointment as his father's words echoed through his mind, "The Hobbits of the Shire would have loved that one!"

Memory poured over him of the Colter Elves in the west and their negative reactions to his music came flooding back. He felt hot with embarrassment as he looked around the crowd. Rose's face came into view and though she was smiling with misty eyes, shame filled his soul. He bowed his head and was just about to get up and walk away when an old and weathered Hobbit halfway back in the crowd clicked with appreciation and began to applaud.

He was Tom Cotton, Mrs. Rosie's brother and the war of long ago simmered inside him as the song brought memory of the pain and death that had occurred. Just as the bird did, he had longed for the light of goodness as he watched his father negotiate with the ruffians, but they would not listen. Tom felt a close relationship to the bird, the Crebain –not wanting to fight or do any evil, but being forced into the situation of having to take lives.

A few others of the elder Hobbits seemed to also begin to 'get it' and joined in, clapping their cupped hands to make the sound louder. Finally the whole crowd began a hesitant applause that grew and grew as the sentiment spread until a smile fell upon even the most bewildered faces. Frodo stood and begged Sammy for another song.

Sammy was quaking inside, his eyes were moist with emotion and he still was not sure what to make of it all. On the verge of tears, he knew the only way to shake it would be with a merry song, so with a shrug and a jiggle of cords he fell into a lively tune to feed his need for desperate self preservation. This raised the emotion among the Hobbits to jubilation and everyone began to dance!

A "Whooop" and a "Squeeee!" rang out from the crowd. Sammy's heart burst with adrenalin. He began to laugh as he played on, switching back and forth between the strings and the flute, playing with such overwhelming glee that the Hobbits continued to hoot and cackle as they danced.

Finally, stretched to its farthest point, the song dissolved into thundering applause. Frodo took Sammy into a great hug and slapped his back with appreciation as pleas for more, rang out. Confidence was reborn and the night fell upon them with a roaring party that did not end until the wee hours of the morn. It was just the thing to tame many a Hobbit heart, especially Sammy's.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

**A Rose for Sammy**

The next project for Sammy and Frodo was to enlarge the barn for the horses, with the addition of a small carpentry shop on the south side. Amidst the glee of the celebration, Doderic Brandybuck offered Sammy his assistance in mentoring him in his carpentry skills. Sammy humbly accepted and this began a friendship that brought understanding of each other and long years of profound respect.

The new shop was adequate for Sammy to perform his work. And as if that didn't keep him busy enough, he also added more to Sam's garden which they tended with care side by side, every day. All of this completely delighted Mrs. Rosie, as Sammy fondly called her, for she truly appreciated the abundance of food and a new piece of furniture here and there.

He came inside one night with a small kitchen stool that he had made at her request and a large basket of cucumbers. The stool was not perfect, in fact a little wobbly. But Rosie was so delighted with the intricate elven runes and flowers carved into the wood, that she hugged him, making him blush in front of young Rose. She then promised to make him a salad for second supper.

Rose jumped up and took hold of the basket and said, "I'll make it Mama, you go sit down. You've worked far too hard today."

Rosie giggled at her daughter, knowing full well her intent, then took up her knitting basket and went into the parlor.

Sammy shyly smiled at Rose as she passed in front of him, eyeing him with a smile of her own as the cucumber basket bumped against her hip. His thoughts warmed as he absorbed her sweet eyes and golden hair that flowed so long it disappeared in the folds of her skirt. Longing was ever in his heart with her presence and he pondered over and over how to approach her. But thoughts of how Sam might feel about that stayed him for fear of disapproval.

"It would just complicate things" he thought. Then he would attempt to turn his thoughts to the other young girls who had been paying him attention. One in particular was very pretty with soft black curls that fell long just like his Mother's. She was a distant cousin of Merry's, far removed from Sammy's side of the family and she had the personality to match her beauty. But his mind always turned back to Rose somehow, as though he had no choice in the matter.

Suddenly there was a loud bang at the door. Hurriedly, Sammy opened it and in ran Gwinto Proudfoot, son of Sancho, heaving desperately out of breath.

"Miss Rose! Angelica rang the alarm! It is Maxi! And from the sound of the bells, it's bad!"

Rose looked desperate. Angelica Baggins, another distant relation to Sammy, lived alone on a small patch of land east of Hobbiton. She had bred Maxi, her milk cow, in hopes to sell the calf providing her the means to get by for the next year. But the cow had been having difficulties.

"She's not due to birth for another week!' Cried Rose, "Why that's over two hours away! Mr. Hardbottle was supposed to be taking care of her. He is much nearer and there's no way I can get over there sooner, especially since Pop is away with Bill Jr."

She was referring to the only pony they had and Sam had taken him up to Brandy Hall to help Merry, with some tree trimming.

Gwinto replied, "I know, Miss Rose, I tried finding Mr. Hardbottle, but found he was called away to the White Downs to tend those Labradors of Mr. Whitfoot. Seems they got a tangled up with a briar thicket, chasin a fox and were cut up real bad. We've already lost much time!"

Sammy stepped in. "Rose, you could take Strider. He'll get you there in half the time, I'll guarantee!"

Rose grew pale. As much as she loved animals and she loved Sammy's horses, she was still terrified of riding them, for their size was immense; far too large for a small, Hobbit lass.

She cried, "Oh, Sammy. I can't ride him! He's way too big! Oh what shall I do?"

"Don't worry Rose, I'll take you. You can ride with me." He said.

The look of fear did not leave Rose's face. "There's nothing for it." She said, "I'll have to take you up on that offer."

As she grabbed a large brown bag that was hanging in the foyer, Mrs. Rosie, who had heard the entire conversation, came through the parlor door. "Please, be careful Sammy, be careful with my Rose."

Sammy turned and faced her. "I will Mrs. Rosie, I promise."

They flew out the door as they slipped on their coats. When they got to the barn, Sammy quickly led Strider out. He then turned to help Rose up onto the massive horse and she faltered.

He grabbed her elbow and gently said, "It is alright Rose. He will not let you fall."

She drew a deep breath and cried, "But there is no saddle!"

Sammy placed his hand on her shoulder and soothingly said, "He is like his father, he will not allow it. It is alright Rose. He will not let you fall, I promise."

Sammy took her hand and helped her climb upon the fence and then gently she slipped onto the horse as he cooed to the animal, instructing him to stop, to be still. "Daro, Strider, Daro!"

Thankfully, her dress was full and did not hinder her as she straddled the animal. Sammy then climbed on in front of her, taking the bag and placing it before him. "Hold on tight," he commanded.

Closing her eyes in fear, Rose slipped her arms under his and laid her head onto his back and squeezed his belly as he spoke the words, "Yro Strider, noro lim!"

The horse jumped forward with a dash and Rose further tightened her eyes and hands. Off they rode with a swift breeze, flying down the lane and creating a dust cloud as it swirled behind them.

They made it in less than an hour and by the time Rose let go, Sammy's shirt had two circular crumples right at the belly and her fear had been too intense to even notice how smooth the ride was. Sammy jumped down and turned to catch her, but she hesitated, unsure of what to do.

He reached up and said, "Just drop Rose, I will catch you." She hesitated again. "Come on, I will catch you," he said motioning with his hands.

Slowly she slithered off of Strider and grabbed his neck when she landed; she found herself in his arms. For a second, maybe two, they stopped, their eyes locked upon each other with their arms holding a tight hug. Warm exhilaration filled the moment, but she shook off the desire and quickly ran into the barn.

Angelica Baggins was getting on in her years with a weathered face that showed she had snuck a puff or two of the pipeweed, which she had grown for selling. Being alone all of her adult life, she had been very resourceful in many ways to survive and it made her hard and virile. When Rose entered the barn she found her lying on a blanket on the ground behind Maxi, her arm deep inside the vagina with a look of frustration and fear on her face.

She shook her head as she slowly pulled out and cackled with a raspy voice, "It's bad Rose. She went to labor this mornin'. Heavin' and pushin'…nothin' was happenin' so I tried to help things along. It's a tangled mess in there and I can't make anythin' out."

Sammy came in just then, carrying the bag and eyed the scene with alarm as he saw the blood and fluid that saturated Angelica's hand and arm.

Rose quickly tied her hair back and opened the bag. Pulling out the special soap she had made, she immediately began washing her hands and arms in a basin that Angelica had set up.

Angelica drew closer, wiping her hand on her apron and looked at Sammy, with her eyes squinting and her lips smacking around what few teeth she had left. "Well bless me, if you don't look 'xactly like Frodo Baggins his self!"

Sammy smiled and his dimples creased his cheeks as he said. "Samwise Geren Baggins is my name, my Lady." He bowed politely in the fashion of the elves he had grown up amidst.

Angelica's eyebrows shot up as she giggled with delight and she slapped his back, "And as odd as our cousin Bilbo, we see!"

Sammy turned to Rose, as she knelt down to look into the cow's eyes. He watched her feel the belly, poking the massive animal here and there. Then to his surprise, she went around the back and slipped her arm all the way inside to determine the situation. Repulsed, he turned away, but peeked back as his curiosity grew stronger. She stayed that way for a long while, twisting and turning, a small grunt coming out of her mouth every once in a while. Poor Maxi held on, letting loose a bellow, pushing and wiggling in pain as Rose worked on her situation.

Finally after a while, she said, "Well Angelica, it seems the problem is that there are _two_ calves in here. They are mighty tangled up with each other and if I could just…" She hesitated with surprise, "well, at least one is alive. I just felt a lick on my hand."

Sammy smiled. Rose continued her efforts to help, Maxi. She grunted and pushed with all her might, working the calves another long while with a frown shading her face and sweat beading on her cheeks.

Maxi was beginning to falter and bellow horribly. Frustrated, Rose pulled out and began washing her arm, intensely pondering the situation. She pulled some powder out of her bag and mixed it with some water. Then she coaxed the huge tongue from the animal's mouth and began to massage the paste deep into the back of its throat. This settled the animal significantly after a few minutes, so back inside the womb she slipped her hand, to untangle the calves.

Sammy watched her, thinking how brave she was working so near the massive hoofs as they kicked here and there. But she managed to dodge the ones that came too close, even though she was in a very precarious position. She was a mess, blood and fluid was all over her now, her wavy golden hair began falling from the ribbon she tied it with, and sweat was soaking her underarms and forehead. But all he thought about was how beautiful she was.

She had her father's sweet eyes that twinkled green when she smiled and her mother's high cheeks that looked as soft as milk on her round face. Her blonde hair was very long and rippled softly in gentle waves as it thickly covered her back. But it was her lips that drew his attention the most when he looked upon her. Rosy pink and supple, they were so inviting he had longed to touch them since he first saw her. He was still shy around her, even after all these months, and they spoke little to one another. But the smiles were ever present and the thoughts kindled.

She had been working on the animal for quite a while and Angelica had gone inside to make them some tea. Rose began to get tired and she groaned, "It is so difficult, they are so big and one is turned wrong! The problem is he wants to come out first. If only Maxi could just relax."

Sammy felt helpless, wondering what he could do to help. He looked at the cow's face and noted her despair. The medicine had helped, but the pain was just too much. Slowly he knelt down to her and began stroking her behind the ear singing a gentle song to calm her. But the cow began to struggle more.

Rose pulled out, grabbing a towel and began wiping herself clean again, a look of deep worry on her face. "It is no use. I am not strong enough and my arm is too short. We are going to have to ride, to find Mr. Hardbottle." She looked down at Maxi, who was beginning to succumb to the ordeal with exhaustion. "Problem is I don't think she will make it that long."

Sammy had never felt so useless. His sorrow for the poor cow was strong. "Let me try." He said to Rose's surprise. "My arm is longer and I am stronger than you are. You can instruct me as I go. I have to try, Rose!"

"Yes!" she cried with hope as she gave him the soap to wash up.

Fear seared through Sammy as he realized he could fail at this. But he had to try, not only for Rose, not only for the pity he felt for Maxi, but his love of animals drove him as he quickly washed. This was nothing like the birth of his two horses. He had only watched and aided his Grandfather Geren as the colts slipped almost effortlessly from Nessa each time she had given birth. So he did not feel experienced enough for this.

He hesitated as he knelt down to the cow, his throat began to tighten. He swallowed quickly, desperate to stop the heaving that erupted with the odor.

"Breathe deep and slowly." Rose instructed, aware of his reaction.

He smiled to ease his stress.

Rose showed him the opening and slowly he slipped his hand in, forcing its way against the contractions and wondering how in the world a calf was going to fit through. She instructed him at first guiding him around each limb and torso so he would be able to assess the situation for himself. Then she explained what needed to be done, how the torso needed to be turned causing as little trauma as possible to the limbs or neck.

"The bones are young and flexible, but they will break" she warned. Sammy drew a deep breath in need of air, but was repulsed by the smell. Once again he gagged and then recovered with a slow deep breath as his determination held and he put forth every effort.

He worked on the calf for quite some time as Rose assisted by pushing and turning from outside the belly. She talked constantly, giving directions and helping him. He was impressed with her knowledge of the cow's body and noted how natural it all was for her.

Time slipped by, hours passed. Sammy's arm was aching. Finally, Rose stopped talking. She stood with a heaviness that weighed her down. She was about to give in and call Sammy off as she noted Maxi slipping away. Then suddenly Maxi let out a weak bellow and a calf began slipping through as Sammy gently pulled.

Rose shrieked! Laughing, she ran back to help and before they knew it the two calves were out, wailing as they gasped the thick warm air. Almost immediately Maxi's strength grew a little in relief and she weakly began to clean her babies. Rose assisted her by placing the babies near her head so she would not have to move. She stroked the cow's face and wondered if she was going to survive this.

Sammy knelt down next to her and patted the cow's shoulder. "Is she out of pain now, Rose? Is she going to make it?" he asked.

Rose dug into her bag and pulled out a small pouch and another vial of powder as she answered, "I am not sure Sammy, but we shall see what time will tell. This should help with the pain."

She proceeded to the rear, to rub the powder into the cow's irritated and torn opening and then began to sew the tears. Maxi bellowed once more and jerked, but then she continued licking her babies until one by one they stood upon wobbling legs, bawling until Maxi nudged them to an utter and they settled down for milk while Mama rested.

Rose fell back onto the hay next to Sammy, laughing as her relief drained what was left of her strength.

He looked over at the babies. It amazed him how fast they had made it to their feet. Now they were contentedly nuzzling around Momma's utters.

Rose turned and looked adoringly into his eyes and taking his hand, she whispered, "Thank you!"

Just then Angelica walked in with the tea. "Oh! They're out!" She chortled at the sight and said, "They're so big! I'll get a pretty penny fer both, fer sure! I guess I must have fallen asleep in the chair and burnt up my teapot. Lucky, I got two. Well anyway, get you two washed up and I'll go fix some breakfast."

They got up and began to wash, wondering what time it was anyway. It was still dark outside and the crows were not yet calling, but they could smell the mist of the first dew in the air as they walked to the house.

Neither one was very hungry as the weariness began to settle upon them, but they politely took a few bites. Rose gave Angelica, a brief account of how the calves were born, praising Sammy with all the credit as he blushed and denied that he could have done anything without her. She instructed the elder lady to contact Mr. Hardbottle at first light so he could check on Maxi.

"For now, she needs rest. So please do not disturb or move her." Rose further instructed.

When they politely excused themselves from her hospitality the old Hobbit insisted on sending some of the food home with them, so they waited a moment while she packed it in a bag.

Sammy noted Rose's eyes getting heavy and he, himself felt more tired than he ever had since mortality settled upon his soul. Yet he was happier than he had ever felt in his entire life and he sighed with a contented smile.

"What?" Smiled Rose in reflex.

"Oh, nothing," blushed Sammy, "it is just that…well this night has been something else!"

"Here ye are!" Sang Angelica as once again she entered the room, interrupting them.

As they prepared to leave, Angelica grunted at Strider as Sammy led him from the barn. She then approached her two helpers and smiled at them. And to their surprise, she stroked Sammy's cheek and said, "Thank you, cousin." She then turned to Rose and hugged her before she sniffed a bit too loudly and rambled off into the house, hollering something about paying them with okra from her garden once it ripens.

Sammy instructed Rose to sit up front for the ride home. For he was too afraid she would fall asleep and not be able to hold on -and because his ribs were still sore from her squeezing on the earlier ride. On the way, he paced the horse slowly so she could rest without fear. And as he held her, he marveled at how sweet she smelled after all she had been through that night.

The stars above glistened in the crystal blackness, as the sound of Strider's hooves clipped clopped on the path. Sammy's thoughts heated his adrenaline as he marveled once again at how happy and wonderful his life had become in the Shire. Although he missed his family, he now had no regrets. He inhaled deeply into Rose's hair and squeezed her gently but she did not stir, for sleep had won her in the warm arms of a handsome, young Peredhil.

They arrived back at Bag End just as the sun began to glow on the horizon. He led Strider into the barn and gently woke Rose. Carefully he let her go as he slipped off the horse, then he turned and once again, offered up his arms to catch her. Now with full trust, she sleepily slipped down once more wrapping her arms about his neck. But this time they did not let each other go.

Their eyes met and suddenly all fear, all shyness, dissolved into ease as the sweetness brought them home. Then gently he laid his lips upon hers and held them as the moistness stirred their passion.

Rose inhaled Sammy, savoring his warmth to soothe her yearning. And as his kisses softened her lips, she returned his love in fluttering sighs.

"Yes," he thought. "I _will_ be happy here."


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

**Life in Mortality**

Sammy and Rose kept their love secret for a while, not quite sure how it would go over and being far to shy about it to share with anyone. Or at least, they thought it was secret. Little did they know, they had been seen. It was another stolen moment in the barn several weeks after the first. Sammy had gone out to tend the horses as he always did each morning and a little later Rose pretended to need some rope for a sick pony she was to visit later that day.

They thought they were well hidden, far from the house in the back of the barn with the looming presence of Evenstar in front of them. He had been grooming the lovely white coat and singing in elvish to the horse in love tones when Rose came in. She slipped into the stall and coming up behind him, she tickled the back of his neck playfully, slightly startling him. He turned and grabbed her, squeezing her tight and began tickling her neck with kisses as she giggled softly trying not to be too loud.

"Sing pretty elvish words, for me, Sammy." She begged with a sigh.

He began a soft and cooing song, sweet and mellow with words that flowed so beautifully that she couldn't help but watch his tongue as he rolled them out. She sighed again and began to kiss his face.

Now little did they know, Sam was in back of the barn, he was trying to clean the mud off his old boots. He had listened amusingly to the sweet song, thinking it was only to the horse. But then the laughter began and he recognized his daughter's voice. Whispers drew his thought but it was the second song that really got his attention. He edged over to the door, peeking in. Seeing their legs behind the great horse, his curiosity peaked. So he slipped around to the side window and that's when he saw. Sammy had finished the song and he had Rose's face cupped gently in his hands. She had her arms around his waist. He was kissing her lovingly and softly, whispering in elvish to her in between kisses. Sweet smiles graced their faces.

Now Sam couldn't help to become hot with anger. This was his daughter after all and he was still not used to seeing his babies in such a light even though Elanor had been married for some time now. Had it been anyone other than Sammy, the wrath of Sam would have come forth. But he hesitated, for the love that had grown in him for this boy was already well established. Sulkily he headed for the house, to stew on this for awhile and get counsel from the wise one; his Rosie.

"They are not children Sam." She said.

He shook his head and let loose some steam, "I know, I know, but they are living in the same house for gafers sake! Now I feel we must watch 'em, make sure they behave themselves!"

Rosie laughed, "And what, my dear, do you think they will do wrong? They are good people, and obviously in love. What is wrong with that?" She smiled at her own words. This news completely delighted Rosie and she couldn't wait to speak of it to Rose.

Sam shrugged, finally cooling. He did not know how to answer this question. In fact he had no answer. Deep in his thought, unwilling to admit it, he knew there wasn't anything wrong with it. He just wanted there to be. And he didn't even know why.

He went about his business after that day, pretending that he didn't know, grumbling in his thought -trying to find a reason to be upset. Rosie told Rose what he saw, and she told Sammy. Both were terrified at first, but when they realized he wasn't going to confront them or embarrass them they sighed in relief, though things felt quite awkward for a while.

In this awkwardness, Sammy began working harder than ever for Sam, doing him favors unasked and waiting on him more than ever.

Rose became more affectionate towards her father. It was something about loving Sammy that made her feel ever stronger, the love for her Pop. She wanted to express it and especially since she knew that he knew.

This softened Sam to the point where he finally approached them with it, playing with them at first with his stern confrontation. But then he took them both into his arms and expressed his happiness and they enjoyed a closeness that would grow ever loyal over the years.

Sammy and Rose were married fourteen months after his arrival on the morning of an unbelievably hot summer day. Preparations for the wedding had been a stressful time, for Rose was a simple girl, wanting just a simple, short ceremony.

Elanor had been given a very large wedding, so Mother Rosie felt that she owed the same wondrous event to each of her daughters. She was so adamant about it, she never heard the protests Rose sweetly put forth. Then later as frustration settled in, it was too late to turn back. But the ceremony turned out beautiful in the flower laden pavilion they had set up under the party tree. When Sammy and Rose turned to face each other as they were pronounced, there were very few dry eyes among the Gamgees and many sighs put forth.

The celebration afterward was a jolly party with the Hobbits in spite of the heat. Sammy couldn't help but laugh at how several of them dipped into the ale a little too generously. Merry was one of them and it angered his wife Estella, for the sun was still many hours from setting. Still he managed to stand up straight when he announced that he and Pippin had prepared a song for the celebration.

Sammy had seen the two really rip it up with crazy and silly tunes at the Green Dragon, so he and everyone else expected something similar. Especially since old Merry mumbled something right before the song about "Myrtle and her mush". He was referring to a huge hog owned by the Bricegirdles. Estella braced herself for humiliation.

As the song began, they surprised everyone. It was a smooth soulful tune about two people traveling a long road of life together, sharing memories as they headed home. Merry tapped his foot in perfect rhythm. It was very touching as they sang in harmony, each voice accenting the other. It ended gently as the words fluttered downward, softly landing in silence. Seconds passed, leaving a look of shock on many of the Hobbit faces to include Estella. Then a roar of applause filled the air and pleas for Sammy to play poured forth. He took up a guitar and Sam sat down at a drum and, as they began to play, Merry and Pippin fell into several of their silliest and dance- enticing jingles. Laughter filled the air as all of the Hobbits danced and mingled around the food and ale.

Suddenly, Merry jumped down, grabbed Rose by the hand and led her up onto the stage. Bewildered and embarrassed, she braced herself in fearful curiosity of what he was about to do to her. He staggered a moment and then dug deep into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled but lovely parchment, elegantly scribed in swirling letters. It was the words to the song and he slurred his affection all over her, wishing her to have it as a keepsake. Rose smiled in relief but then to her horror he continued.

"And now that you know the words, you can sing with us!" He said with the sweetest plea that he could muster to come forth in the vapor of his ale.

Rose's adrenalin throbbed as she comprehended what he was asking. She had never sang in front of anyone, much less her new husband and compared to his talent she knew she could not even come close to being any where near the word, 'entertaining'.

But applause broke out and many voices could be heard, crying, "Yes! Sing for us, Rose!"

Sammy began plucking at his instrument as he too desired to hear her voice and Sam fell in with the beat of the drum. Wanting to be a good sport, Rose felt she had no choice, so softly she tried to hide behind Merry and Pippins soothing voices; it did no good. Merry cupped his ears and gestured for her to pipe up as did several of the members in the audience.

Rose closed her eyes in trembling anxiety and began to sing louder, concentrating all her thought into staying in tune and keeping up. And though her voice was not as lovely as Sammy had heard among the elven women, he adored her sweet alto and was oblivious to its flaws as was all of the other Hobbits in their celebratory mood. The song ended with generous applause and relieved that it was over, Rose stepped down and began dancing with the other lasses in flushing laughter. And the day rolled on in blissful glee as the music poured forth until evening fell upon them in silver haze.

The party continued until darkness announced night and it was time for the new couple to leave. They had a long ride and wanted to arrive before too much weariness settled in. Sammy led his new wife down the little hill to the road with all of the Hobbits following close behind, tossing flower pedals into the air and chanting 'la la la…la la la' in merriment.

Waiting on the road was an early wedding gift from Pippin. A new wagon laden with their baggage and with Strider and Evenstar already hitched. Many kisses and hugs finalized the event and 'goodbye's' echoed through the air as they rode off, hugging the road in the moonlight, to a little cabin in the old forest of Tuckburrow. They were to spend a month of holiday alone.

Two years had now passed since Sammy had arrived in the Shire. He was happy at Bag End and Rose had no desire to leave so with Sam's help they knocked down the wall separating a pantry and Rose's bedroom to create a large room. They then burrowed deeper into the back of the hill, adding a new bedroom with a wash-nook and another fireplace. A new sofa, bookshelves and a desk completed the little apartment, creating a cozy but more private living space for them.

Sammy had developed a bit of a business with his wood working as he slowly improved and he did a little gardening on the side for several neighbors. Rose continued her apprenticeship with the veterinarian and soon would be certified as a professional. They both were kept quite busy.

The little Peredhil was slowly becoming accustomed to the ways of the Hobbits, although it was quite different from what he was used to. Sometimes he did get annoyed at them; sometimes he thought them too silly or opinionated. Other times he thought them too absorbed in hum drum daily life. But on the most part he had truly fallen in love with them and eventually he blended right in, feeling quite at home and at peace.

Now, more than ever he felt his decision to leave Aman a wise one. But the ache in his heart for his family never left him. He loved them all profoundly and missing them was often in his thoughts. But with Meli, it was more than just missing the presence of his mother; it was missing her essence and the way she fulfilled his every need, emotionally and psychologically. Life in mortality was quite different and he wasn't yet accustomed to its grief's and imperfections. He began to cope by taking occasional walks, not too often, but some nights, seeking solitude to sing to her star; her ever present counselor. And each time he looked up at it, he imagined she was looking at it at the same time and by the will of Eärendil, he imagined he was able to talk to her.

Now this touched Ilúvatar profoundly and as Sammy sang, a feeling would well up in Meli's heart; it brought love and remembrance of her son. And she came to feel his presence, sometimes hearing his music in her mind, sometimes dreaming about him. They were good dreams that brought her contentedness so she shared them with Frodo as often as they came about and he too, was at peace.

Rose did not mind his long walks, leaving her behind. She was so busy with her veterinarian work and spending all other time with him, that she sometimes felt she neglected the rest of her world. So she took advantage of these few occasions to catch up on time with her own friends, parents and siblings. It was on one of these nights, that she chose to give her young brother Tom attention. They were sitting cross legged on the floor playing a game, giggling as they chattered about this and that. Mrs. Rosie was sitting on the sofa sewing and Sam was sitting next to her reading a book. The other children were in and about, occupied with other things, or watching the game as it progressed.

It was a drawing game and as one person drew a picture line for line, the other tried to guess what it was. Each picture got sillier and sillier as they went and before it was over, Tom got to giggling so hard he rolled over, pulling Rose down and suddenly it became a tickling match. They wrestled and tickled and laughed to exhaustion, with the other children piling on, until they all could move no more. They all sat panting, catching their breaths for a moment or two.

Rose felt like a child again and exclaimed, "Oh, Tom, you'll be the death of me some day, I'll laugh myself to choking! I need some water."

With that, she stood up to head for the kitchen when suddenly all went woozy and she passed out cold, falling to the floor, just barely missing the bricks on the hearth!

Everyone jumped at once, crowding around her, patting her face until Sam picked her up and carried her to her bed. Rosie grabbed some cloth, shouting to Goldilocks to get some water and for Tom to run and find Sammy; as Robin and Ruby began to cry.

Rose finally awoke looking up in alarm as everyone looked down at her, panic in their eyes.

"What happened?" she asked feeling as though she had only been out a second. She wondered how she got into her room and onto her bed.

"You fainted, Rose." Rosie said. And then suddenly she realized what caused it. A smile crept across her face and she looked at her daughter with a smirk. "Alright, she's fine. Everyone out! Give her room to breathe. Come on, you too, Sam." Rosie ordered it like one who means business as she turned Sam and she pushed them all out of the room. She closed the door, went over to the bed and sat down, placing a wet cloth on Rose's forehead.

"You just lay here for a while, my little Rosebud." She said, calling her by the nickname she used when Rose was very young. Again a smile crossed her face and it was the same look she had, the day she found out about Rose and Sammy's love.

"You know, don't you, Mama." Rose said as she started laughing. "I can't keep anything from you. Well at least you seem happy about it. It's Pop I'm worried about…as usual." Then they both started laughing.

Suddenly Sammy came bursting through the door. "Rose! Rose, are you all right?" he cried in obvious distress.

Mrs. Rosie continued to laugh as she said, "She's just fine, Sammy. I'll leave you two alone now." She leaned down and kissed her daughter on the cheek and whispered "I love you, my little Rosebud."

The first four months of Rose's pregnancy was a horrible nightmare. She was sick all through the day and then all into the night. She could eat very little and drink even less. And she fainted again several times, after just a little bit of exertion. She was almost completely bedridden, but finally it began to pass as she entered her fifth month. Feeling so much better, she decided to get out a little, taking short walks and helping Sammy in the garden with light tasks. But weariness still came upon her quickly and she had to take it easy. She fretted about it constantly, feeling bad about not being able to help Mr. Hardbottle, but there was nothing for it. Nothing she could do.

Sammy was ecstatic about the baby, especially as the movement began. He could not keep his hands and ears off her bulging belly and he showered Rose with so much more affection, she even felt a little smothered. It was a crazy mixture for him, both joyous and worried constantly. He had never in all of his life felt such intense emotion and it was wearing on him, building and building within him.

Then one night well into her sixth month, he was sitting up in bed, softly playing the fiddle he had recently made. His intricate plucking was so emotive he became lost in the music; his feelings reeled in and out of upper and lower notes. He had a way about him, his music was intoxicating and it had lulled Rose into a contented sleep, dreamless and deep. But nature had a mind of its own that night and without waking, she began to softly wheeze as though a great crushing came upon her. Sammy didn't notice at first as he was so into the strum of the cords, but when her breathing became deep and forceful, he took notice. Alarmed, he dropped the instrument and felt her head. It was aflame with heat and she was soaked, as sweat dripped upon the pillow. Throwing the covers off her he found a massive pool of red blood around her torso.

He screamed with all his being "Nooooo! Nooooo!" He picked up her head and shoulders, hugging her face tightly against his, crying for help and he wouldn't let go even after Sam and Rosie came rushing in.

Sam immediately sent Tom for the Healer. But he took a long while to come, for the night was old and the way so far. And all while they waited, Rosie and Goldilocks tended her while Sammy refused to let her go. His sobs were burrowed deep into her chest and he shook with fear, confused and bewildered.

Rosie managed to deliver the baby and stop the bleeding but the fever would not subside and the baby was too tiny to breathe. Blue and lifeless the little Hobbit girl lay limp in Rosie's arms, as she worked on her, but she was too young to be born, too small to cry. Hopeless tears fell down Rosie's face as she laid the little baby down on her Mama's tummy, then she gently pulled Sammy away so Goldilocks could bathe her sister with wet cloths.

Sam then came in with the Healer and as he took over, Rosie took Sammy's hand and led him out of the room. "Give him space, dear Sammy. Rose will be alright, I am sure of it."

Several hours passed as the silence echoed from the room. Sammy sat watching the door, waiting and listening with such bewilderment on his face that no one dared to speak. Sam and Rosie sat on the sofa with heavy hearts as they contemplated the fate of their daughter. All of their children were around them, some asleep, others worriedly watching Sammy.

Finally, the healer emerged, tired and with wrinkled brow. "She is going to be alright, the fever broke," he announced.

Sammy stood and whispered, "She is going to be alright," and as he slowly went back into their room, his voice quivered once more through the echoes of the hallway, "she is going to be alright".

But he was not. Never before had he faced such trauma, such emotion. Aman had not prepared him for this kind of pain. The baby was dead. And there was nothing he could do. Yet he kept telling everyone Rose was alright, somehow trying to convince himself, by trying to convince everyone else.

It wasn't until the next day, that she finally awoke and learned her baby was gone. Sammy was by her side, exhausted with no sleep, but smiling at her for comfort. She stroked his face as he leaned down close to her, whispering sweet words of love. Still, she was too delirious to really know what was happening and eventually she fell back into healing sleep, unknowing of the grief that was to come upon her later. Sammy, fatigued beyond crying fell asleep next to her, holding her with all his sighs, in and out of bad dreams. And the healing hours passed with a house so silent, the gentle wind could be heard as it sang through the trees.

It took a long while, many weeks for Rose to come to accept the loss of her baby. In the beginning the pain was so horrible she could not fathom even getting out of bed. But eventually she came to accept it and, as she healed, she slowly resumed her life, keeping busy to ease the pain.

However, Sammy was not healing. He lingered in torment without knowing how to escape and he spent all of his time wallowing in his grief. He lay in bed or sat at the window gazing out at nothingness, refusing to eat much, unable to sleep, refusing to resume any kind of life. Weeks passed into months and as the family pleaded with him, counseled him and gave him extra love; slowly he came to resent Rose's healing.

"How could she go back into normal life," he thought, "Our baby is dead." He was appalled at how she could continue and not just lay down and grieve forever more.

Aman had not prepared him. Life there had been bliss in comparison. Though not entirely a happy one, his whole childhood was too stable to prepare him for the grievances of mortality. And now he was lost. Lost like a child in the darkly woods, with evil eyes all about him. What could he do? Where could he go?

And to make matters worse, Rose did not understand or know how to help him. She longed to hold him in her loving arms, counsel him, plead and cry for his healing. But he would not have her. She became impatient with him, she begged him to snap out of it. It threatened her own coping mechanism; if Sammy could not heal, she could not. She began to avoid him and then chastise him. Hurting him was a release. And then she would feel ashamed, so she hated herself as her love mingled in, causing great disturbance within her heart. It was an unbelievably difficult time for all.

Sam and Rosie tried their best to help; young Frodo tried; even Merry and Pippin tried. But no one could reach Sammy; he was lost and could not be found.

Then one day, Sammy had too much. Rose had snapped at him. It was petty and meaningless, but it was just enough to break him. He took up one of the instruments he had made; it was like a fiddle, but large and round with a pot belly whose music was deep and woeful like a sobbing bass. And with only this instrument, he left. He didn't even pack clothes, didn't say a word. He just opened the door and was gone, leaving behind his loved ones, his family, even his horses.

He wandered for days over the hills and deep into the dells of the vast and wild land to the south, avoiding any sign of life that he came upon. Eventually he ended up on the long road that led to the old forest of Tuckburrow. He came upon the little cabin that he and Rose had stayed in for their wedding holiday. Abandoned and dusty it was there that he stayed for many long days, to wallow in his grief, wishing to sob into the leaves, just as he had done so long ago in a land called Aman, when the taste of his brother's bitter sadness had come over him. But again the tears would not come and he longed to find some kind of healing if it existed in any way. He longed to seek deep into his heart, to find some way to make it all, alright.

Rose was staggered by his disappearance. Her anger festered into denial and she refused to look for him. She began working long hours into the night, pretending nothing was wrong, but sleeping very little and weeping into her dreams. And she refused to talk about him or allow talk of him in her presence.

The broken hearted Gamgees kept prayer on their lips and Sammy in their thoughts; hoping beyond hope that he was alive, that he was well and soon he would be home. Sam, his sons, Merry and Pippin searched for him. But Sammy held onto his grief and when they came near, once again, he hid, furtively cowering in the brush and fighting silent tears whenever Sam came into view. But even then, he continued to hide and the days became weeks as the crisp cool of autumn fell upon him. And the seekers gave up with heavy hearts and heavy sighs.

He grieved using his music, playing for hours upon hours each day; the same song swelled in his head like a plant hungry and growing, yet black as the night. He didn't eat much, there wasn't much to eat. He just played, note upon note, ever growing in its intricacy; seeking, seeking but never finding much healing, just withered and worn.

Then, in his darkest hour, when his will was gone and thoughts of the serene halls drew him, he had a thought, to look up into the night sky. And there was the star, shining brighter than it had ever appeared for him. And within its glow, he could see his mother's face.

"Eärendil!" he screamed into the lonely night. "I am so sorry, I am so sorry!" He sobbed.

All fell quiet and he could no longer hear his song. The night heard his call as he lay down in the dry leaves of the forest to weep and a sleep came upon him. And there she was, his mother Meli come to him in wisdom, touching his brow softly with her lips. He felt her essence and far, far away in the land of Eressëa she felt his, as a dream took _her; _a dream within a dream. He spoke of his grief as a blanket of horror and she veiled it with her love, telling him, "Let it be, let it be; my child, my love".

Now the night was cloudy, but the light of the star continued to shine down as he drifted in and out of the healing. And when he awoke, the sun was rising sleepily on the orange horizon; it gave him a soothing heart and a new song upon his lips. It was sweet and soothing, a song for healing. "Let it be, let it be."

He took his instrument and traversed the long road back to Hobbiton, arriving just in time for supper.

Now Rose had been away most of the afternoon and into the evening when he arrived. She had continued to keep busy, trying to cope in any way she could. But in her heart she had given in to the grief and let herself believe he was dead. Her love mourned, though anger continued to fester in her, but she did not reveal it to anyone.

Sam greeted him at the door and without a word, took him into his arms and cried; for he had also given up hope that Sammy was alive. And upon hearing her husband's tears Mrs. Rosie joined them in the sweet embrace as did all of the children that were home at the time. They brought him inside and placed him down at the table to eat. And Mrs. Rosie served him, feeding him to his fill with food that she had poured her love into. All was quiet as they ate. But each and everyone one of them held thoughts and prayers that Rose would forgive him; for they loved him too.

After supper, he went to their room and took a long bath, washing away the pain from the long days that had passed. His thought weighed heavy with worry that she would not accept him. But he had to know, he had to be brave.

She came in late; the house was silent, hushed asleep except for Sammy. Music warmed the hall and embraced her as she walked down the dark passage. The cords were sweet, emotive and soothing. But her emotions boiled with anger and memories of love surrounded her, as the music reminisced. She had the urge to run into his arms, crying with happiness that he was alive! But the pain was deep within her. She hesitated before the door, her heart pounded furiously. Her fury grew in her throat as it battled with her love. She said not a word, as she entered the room.

Clean water and towels lay in waiting, still steaming in readiness upon the wash table. Slowly she took them up and cleansed away the day, trembling in thoughts of love and ire. She prepared for bed taking extra time to comb her long golden tresses, as thoughts stormed in her mind. Her throat was tight as she swallowed, holding back a sob. Her first thought was to leave, to run and "How dare he come back this way". But her second thought came quickly and it was her love that flowed delicately through her fluttering breath as the music continued to bring sweet memory.

He sat on the bed, deeply involved in an intricate melody, plucking at the strings vibrantly and then softly, interweaving notes with masterful perfection. He concentrated on the music, afraid to stop, afraid to look at her. The music was lulling and luring, drawing and intoxicating. His heart was aching, pounding in anticipation.

She couldn't help but to become entranced by the music and in near forgiveness she sat down on the bed facing him as he played. The emotion of the song soothed her emotion; it lit a fire of passion and she was mesmerized by his smooth skin, his soft hair, his smell. She felt bewitched and she loved it.

The song wound its way to ending and with a sigh he gently placed the instrument down upon the floor. He looked into her eyes, deeply and longingly, his brow pleading.

She drew in a breath and as she slowly released it, her eyes locked on his. "Touch me" she whispered.

Quickly his lips found hers as his hands delicately cupped her face. His body trembled in the emotion of the moment.

She trembled as well, as her arms pulled his body close to hers and they kissed in long moments of wordless apologies.

And as he paused to breathe, he whispered through choking tears, "I am so sorry. I am so sorry…"

"No," she cried back. "It was me…"

But she could not finish for his lips were on hers once more and in between kisses he said, "I will never leave you again…never again."


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

**The Last Ships**

The year rolled on and as memory of their tragedy faded, Sammy and Rose become closer and more in love than ever. For often it happens, that with deep pain a bonding occurs, making the love ever stronger if forgiveness is complete. And complete it was, for Rose could see in Sammy's eyes the sincerity of his heart and he could see hers.

Soon the result of their love brought forth another child in the warm womb of little Rose. At first she denied it within her thought, frightened beyond admission. But it could not long be held without revelation, even from her Sammy. He knew almost immediately as did Mrs. Rosie. Fear griped them, as caution guided them. Rose stopped working and stayed quiet about the house, on quiet edge as little twinges of morning sickness nagged her. And the ache of her growing belly taunted her fear, robbing her of the joy that she could be experiencing. Sammy continued to work, watching her warily when he was about, but minding his responsibility towards his promise, his promise to 'let it be'.

Mother Rosie was the wise one and with her unconditional love, she gently reminded the two of them that fate would have its way regardless of how they handled their fear.

"Do not give in to it," she said, "embrace your love and good fortune!"

And so the sixth month dawned, and Rose awoke feeling as well as she had for the previous months; not perfect, but as well as was normal for any Hobbit lass who was with child. By the end of the seventh month, they began to relax and enjoyed each other in complete trust that all would be well.

"There is a little girl in there," Sammy said one day as he held his ear against Rose's belly.

They were lounging under the Party Tree, absorbing the warmth of a golden summer day. The smell of cut grass wafted through the air coinciding with the sound of garden shears that could be heard below the hill. Little flies tickled their ears and buzzed around the last piece of the strawberry pie that sat on the corner of the yellow checkered blanket.

"How do you know, silly?" she teased and then said with a giggle. "He feels like a boy the way he kicks!"

"No…it is a girl." Sammy said flatly, as if he was all knowing.

Rose sighed, "Yes, I think you are right, Poppy."

Sammy sat up with raised brow. "Poppy?" he said, smiling brightly. "Why, that is what I called _my_ Pop…Poppy! I love you, Rose!"

"I love you too, my Sammy." She said with a giggle and a sigh.

And with this love, was born a beautiful daughter, peacefully brought to birth without incident. They named her Melanna Rose, for she was born with a head full of curly dark hair and eyes of brown, just like her grandmother Meli and with the cheeks and dimples of her grandmother Rose. As she grew, her song grew sweet, with a voice that ranged far and velvety full, giving Sammy sweet memories of his Nane. And together they sweetened the walls of Bag End in their fireside evenings of harmony.

Meli Rose they called her. She filled them with joy far greater than they had ever known -never ending even unto the day when Sammy handed her off to her beau, Faroden, son of Faramir Took.

Faroden was destined to become Thain, descended among the lines of the Tooks of Great Smials and grandson to the infamous Peregrin Took of the War of the Ring.

Meli Rose and Faroden soon had a son, who they graced with the name of Colter Farrell, for he had in his eyes the stars of the elves and Sammy called him Eledhen or sometimes Calelenhen. Far into Colter's destiny, he was to follow in the line of his fathers in the rule of the Hobbits…and to carry on adventures of his own. For in his blood, there mingled a great history of elves and the valiancy of the Hobbits whose tales filled him with awe.

Over the years as the Gamgee and Baggins families grew, they doled out more rooms, enlarging Bag End to hold everyone. Just like Rose, few of the children had the desire to leave home as they came of age. So as the need arose, slowly the home became a grand hall filled with the joyous squeals of grandchildren and even great grandchildren. It was a multi-tunneled mansion to the liking of Brandy hall where Frodo Baggins, had spent some of his own childhood -among many generations of family.

Of course not all of the children stayed. Elanor had long been gone and eventually Frodo-lad had made the decision to aid his sister in the development of the Tower Hills. He grew very comfortable there -eventually he earned a position of high prominence in Forestry, he met and married his sweet bride, Lily, and they begat eleven children, almost matching the feat of his parents!

Young Tom also whisked away as soon as he became of age; as the tales of his childhood years pulled on his curiosity. He had to see the world, have a little adventure of his own, before he settled down to "the doldrums of life, making a living," as he would roar with a deep bass.

Life in the Shire was good for all. Of course they had the usual blows that mortal life can throw as illness, accidents and death scarred them. Uncle Hamson, Sam's brother, succumbed to fever in the dark of a cold winter. Doderic Brandybuck's daughter, Acacia became tangled in a tree while swimming, and tragically the Brandywine claimed another -she drowned.

But worst of all for the Gamgee family, Tom never came home. Many searched the Shire far and wide for signs of his direction. Merry and Pippin journeyed across the vast lands all the way down south to Gondor. The King even sent out searchers, who scoured the depths of the Misty Mountains and rummaged through the tangles of Fangorn and Mirkwood. But he could not be found and he never came home.

Sammy struggled immensely with his grief, a grief as intense as before, for he had grown to love his new little brother, very deeply. But he held strong, singing deep in his soul…'let him be, let him be'. And he attended Rose's grief and Sam's and Rosie's grief as he did all of the Gamgee family; guiding them through healing and helping them to cope.

As Sammy counseled the others, he became one who could be counted on for words of comfort and wisdom. He taught them, "Life is the result of mortal choices that the powers, let be. It is in the choices of each soul to recognize the gifts and accept the blows, just as a child who becomes an adult and learns to stand on his own. Each has a hand in making his own destiny and hopefully each remembers that his choices affect others and forgets not, to be thankful for his blessings."

* * *

Soon the currents of time flowed swiftly by and the river of age grew deep. Sammy held his age well for a Hobbit, yet he still aged at their rate even though the elven blood in his veins continued to flow. His hair began to grey around the ears and his smile slowly became permanently etched around his eyes. Yet his work had made him strong and his body stood firm upon the rich soil of his garden, defiant of the aches and pains that could not be avoided.

For these strengths and for his wisdom he took the position next to Sam as patriarch in waiting. And though he had chosen mortal life, he knew deep in the depths of his awareness that the grace would be his –that he could lie down and sleep forever more at his own whim.

Now too soon as natural things go, the passage of Mrs. Rosie Gamgee blackened the day. Sorrow sealed life for Sam Gamgee, as he laid his darling Rosie to rest and it was not long before the burden of the Ring came hauntingly upon him.

Sammy found him one day, walking the woods deep in thought, trouble and ache upon his brow. He carried a cane that Sammy had made for Rosie when the weight of her toils had weakened her knees. She had walked with it for several years and it seemed to have become a part of her, as though it was another limb.

Sammy approached his father in-law, concerned for his safety, for the years had bent him into weakness and the path held many dangers for instability to tread.

"Why Pop, what are you doing all the way out here?" He said as he eyed the way Sam was carrying the cane, cradling it like a baby. "Here," Sammy said as he attempted to pull the cane down for Sam to lean on.

But Sam reared up and backed away, swiftly as though the very thought of Sammy touching the cane terrified him! It amazed Sammy, at how suddenly strong this weak and bent little Hobbit became! And something in his eyes flared a fire that immediately brought to him the memory of his parent's pain as though he had just seen them today!

**_A vision of Frodo and Meli clouded his thought. How they would sit upon the bench at the front door, holding each other in pale fear. Grandmother Linanna quickly shooed the children into the house to give them privacy as they worked through the pain. Sammy remembered too well, how they looked as he eased a peek out of the window. That same fire burned in their weary eyes, menacing and sad. How his heart ached so fiercely, that he wanted to run and hide from it! But the only ease he could find was in his music as he sat before the hearth. After a little while, the sweet smiles on their tired faces would appear at the door as the music dissolved the spell. Meli would begin singing softly in harmony with her son and Frodo would take up a piece of wood to whittle, settling softly on a stool next to them, while listening intensely. _**

Moments passed as their eyes remained locked; Sam's wide in terror, Sammy's forlorn and regretful. The little Peredhil began to sing softly that same elvish song, though the words were unknown to _this_ Ringbearer, yet the effect was the same nonetheless.

Sam trembled as he eased out of the terror. Sammy's song gently soothed him with expressions of loyalty and comfort. Then the evil storm within the old Hobbit let him go and he gasped as he collapsed into Sammy's arms.

Shock filled Sammy's thought as he held Sam, for the old Hobbit was light in weight as though his body was slowly dissolving into dust.

"Come, Pop," he whispered, "let's go home."

Sam allowed him to lead him home, but he continued to hold the cane as though it was precious to him and he could not bear the thought of letting it go.

The days continued to grow dark for Sam. And as his life in the Shire grew too heavy, he began to look to the west with Frodo on his mind, longing to be with his dear friend to the last of his days. Sammy paid him extra attention, sitting with him often and speaking of life in Aman as Frodo's words echoed in his son's thought, "I will see Sam again someday, for he was also a Ringbearer, if only for a little while."

Soon, Sam made the decision to sail, yearning for the healing powers of the Vala to bring him peace. But he made the mistake of announcing it to his family, instead of slipping away with only a moments notice as Frodo had done.

At first the news of Sam's plans brought outrage to his family. They were terrified at the thought of allowing their elderly father to travel alone into the unknown.

"What if Frodo is no longer alive!" cried Hamfast. "He was older than you were! And who would take care of you!"

Sammy stepped in at that point as he described the beauty and wonder of the Undying Lands. He reminded them that Gandalf was there, and Elrond the healer, Lady Galadriel, and his Mother, Meli. He spoke of the healing breezes of the peaceful beaches and the smell of the flowers of the wood. He sang songs in Elvish that he had written for his parents that brought healing emotions and tears of relief. Finally as the burden of Sam's haunting weighed upon them, they relented and though sorrow was great, they gave their father their blessing.

The day of departure came upon them far too swiftly and as the journey began to the Havens, a great entourage of Hobbits followed him to the edge of the Shire; Bofins, Burrows, Bolgers, Tooks, Gamwiches, Cottons, Proudfoots, and of course, Gamgees and Bagginses and many more. Some even carried a token of love to pass on to Sam, their dear friend, Uncle, or Cousin. Too soon, they reached the borders of the Far Downs and many Hobbits would go no further, for their fear of the outside was still too outrageous to accept. The followers began to dwindle, as they said their final goodbyes, with gurgling throats and misting eyes. Sam held strong however, appearing to be completely at peace with his decision, but inwardly mourning the farewells of those he loved so dearly. As the last few turned back, he once again faced the west, standing taller than usual and with determination he plodded on.

Through the woods the smaller group of Gamgees and Bagginses stepped heavily in their dread of the final farewell. Their sadness could be felt thickly and their sighs would echo through the trees. Sam began to feel as though it were weighing him down, like a heavy blanket filled with wet sorrow, draped upon his shoulders in a smothering grasp. He began to regret that he had refused a pony, but he plodded on, determined and sure of himself.

They reached the Tower Hills and rested for a day in a large house on the edge of the wood, with Elanor and Frodo, Sam's two eldest. Many approached Sam and held him in hugs, leaving their tears upon his shoulder, and an 'I love you, Pop," sweetening his ears. But the burden continued to feel heavy for the old Hobbit and he slept very little that night.

The next morning dawned grey as thick clouds billowed in from the cool breezes in the north. Sam was first to rise, extra early and though the weather held the sun in hiding, he sat in the garden sipping his tea and contemplating the farewells to come. His bag sat beside him, readied for the final trek and his cloak hung from his shoulders, clasped by the green leaf of long ago memories. Elanor stepped out of the house, softly closing the door behind her so not to wake the sleeping Hobbits inside. No words were spoken as she approached her father who now was standing with his pack upon his shoulder and his Rosie's cane held tightly in his grasp. Their eyes met and as the silence continued they both turned and entered the forest that hugged the yard.

They walked for a while still quiet, as the sun slowly began to slip above the horizon and filter in through the darkness beneath the trees. As they neared the edge where the road cut a border on the edge of the hills, he turned and dropped his pack upon the leaves. She slipped her arms under his, and laid her face upon his chest. Her breath trembled as she held him tightly against her cheek and she whispered an "I love you" into his cloak. He felt the warmth of her breath as it eased its way through the cloth and absorbed into his skin. He squeezed her in return. "I love you too, my sweet daughter." And before the first eye opened in the house, Sam was on his way, whistling a little song that he had heard a while back; a song of healing.

Another day passed and Sam could smell the familiar salt of the ocean air gently ease its way through the trees as the forest began to thin. It made him increase his pace as anticipation began to build in him. He walked on for several miles observing the familiar sights that surprisingly had stayed within his memory. A farm, a small creek that cut along the road, a large windmill on top of a small hill, and the familiar rock that began to line the hills. The road began a gentle incline and bent sharply right and left as it wound its way around craggy hills. The birds began to increase in numbers, white and large, seemingly hungry as they searched and swooped around the hummocks. He rounded another bend at the top of a mound and suddenly there it was, the ocean; wide and vast, disappearing far to his left into mist and cloud. He could not see Mithlond from this view point, for the hills kept it tucked below his vision, but he knew it was near and his heart began to pound as he further quickened his pace.

Then suddenly there appeared a house, then two and several towers emerging from rock buildings down side streets, cobbled with polished stone and busy with folk going about their day. Down the main road he continued as he viewed the structures so cleverly embedded into solid rock hills, ornate with elvish carvings, Mesquite and sweet smelling Honey Suckle. He reached the end and as he emerged from within the narrow streets and through an arched gateway, there before him glistened the haven and a great, grey ship bobbing against the padded stone dock with many elves aboard and Lord Cirdan standing at the gate awaiting him. Sam's eyes grew wide with the sight, not for the ship, nor the elves, or the water, but for the living breathing souls that awaited him on the dock, with patience and peace.

Tears began to slip down Sam's wrinkled cheeks as he approached an embrace with his daughter. "My Little Rose," he said. And then he turned to Sammy and said, "I am so glad you are here as well!"

Sammy beamed, "Surely, you didn't think we would let you slip away so easily, did you?"

They embraced -holding tight as if to seal their love, these two Sams. The elder Sam whispered, "Take care of our family, Sammy. I leave it all to you. Take care."

The emotions Sammy felt were immense. As Sam was about to board, the little Peredhil handed him his journal. It had grown very thick over the years and it was heavy in its blue binding, but the thought of it lightened Sam's heart as he envisioned Frodo's face upon receiving it.

Then, with light foot, and a sigh upon his lips Sam boarded, turning and smiling sweetly with glistening green eyes and a farewell nod to them all. With Cirdan the shipwright as his captain, he sailed for Aman. It was the last elven ship to depart Mithlond, bearing the last of the Ringbearers. Side by side they stood with their faces turn to the west absorbing the wind in their hair, as it cleansed their hearts of the hurts of Middle Earth. And an elven ship slipped slowly through the waters, disappearing into the sunset before Mithlond, for the last time.

* * *

Now the evil of Morgoth and Sauron and all the fell beasts of darkness had passed into voided blackness for all of Arda. But the scars remained and continued to tempt the faith of all. Life in the Blessed Realm was golden and pure. The evil dissolved slowly as the fluid of happiness poured forth. As the ships came in, many disembarked troubled or poisoned. Anticipation of healing was intense. But for some, the grief was great and healing was not a concept of awareness. It was simple peace they sought.

She walked warily over the gateway, stepping onto the boardwalk, unsure of what to do next. She had taken the last ship from the southern havens of Edhellond to sail; barely in time to experience the words that had influenced her not so long ago in her immortal years.

"**_Aman is very exquisite if that word does it justice; a land of peace and majesty beyond the bounds of the mind. Aman is a land of healing."_**

She had to see for herself and it was a brave thing to do considering her state of mind. She wondered along the boardwalk eyeing the smiling faces as their reunion with kin brought wondrous joy. There was no one she knew and she did not know what to do.

He had been walking the boardwalk on this day, basking in the warm sunshine, breathing the clean ocean air. Mostly out of boredom. His life had suddenly come to a grinding halt upon arrival on this island after a lifestyle of busy work, scouting the east, battling great evils and cleansing the vile from the tumultuous lands.

Glorfindel had joyous reunion with many friends upon arrival and he spent much time with them all. Still, he couldn't help but feel his life was missing something. He was lonely. Spending time with Meli and Frodo, Elrond and Celebrian, and witnessing the joyous reunion of Galadriel and Celeborn had made him long for love and a relationship to last through the ends of time. But out of the many elven maidens on the island, not a one had sparked that kind of interest in him.

And there she was, looking frightened and unsure of where to go. Her long black hair was neat and straight, blowing free. Her eyes at their bluest reflected the glistening water. Her face soft white gave her a regal look, though he could tell she was of Silvan descent. It was not love at first, but an immense curiosity was immediately aroused. He approached her warily, for she had the look that she would flee. Ever so softly the gentle elf told her his name. Then he asked her if he could be of service.

Relief mingled with new fear as she blushed and she did not know what to say. She managed a small smile and after a pause, she asked, "Where shall I go my Lord? For I am new to these lands and have no kin."

He smiled warmly and said, "Not to worry, my Lady. I have a friend who has plenty of room and can provide for you. Her name is Adriel. What is your name?"

"Mithrellas," she answered as the name, Erebwen slowly dissolved into the southern breeze. And now a glimmer of peace touched her skin for the first time in many an age.

* * *

Frodo Baggins was in the garden clipping the dried leaves from the coleus bushes. They had grown quite large and thick, showing they were quite happy in their deep ruby color. They were his favorites and he doted over them daily, tending their every need, his natural love of things that grow, fully satisfied.

They went by so quietly he hadn't even noticed the sight, up the beach about a mile. Two ships slipped fleetingly by into the tiny harbor at Coivinya, one from the south and one from the southeast. Meli saw them from the kitchen window as one eased slowly behind the other and lessoned her sails. She wondered, for very few ships came these days and they both seemed a bit off course even for those coming from Edhellond to Avalonnë. But the wind can be fickle, she thought and she said nothing as she went about her business, moving on to the bedroom, to gather the bed sheets.

A while passed and now Frodo was working around the strawberry plants, gently turning the soil and pulling what few weeds dared invade their bliss. He stopped and picked the red bulbous that was dangling behind a leaf in hiding, it was near enough ripened. Gently he brushed the soil away and picked at the green; its sweet, fresh aroma made his mouth water. And as he bit into it, memory came to him of long ago; Sam's words, coaxing him up the massive and dreaded Mount Doom

"_**Do you remember the Shire, Mister Frodo? It'll be spring soon, and the Orchards will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket and they'll be sowing the summer barley in the lower fields. And eating the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of strawberries?"** _

Frodo shook away the memory of the evil and reflected on the dedication and love of Sam. How he missed him. His silly doting -his ever attentive concern -his sweet, smile that said in so many ways, 'I'm here for you, Frodo'. He sighed at the memory of the sacrifices that Sam had made for him. He shook his head in wonder at the danger that Sam faced, without the slightest hesitation. How he wished he could repay it all.

Suddenly he sensed he was being watched. His brows crinkled and his eyes swept to the side. Slowly he turned and low and behold before his very eyes there he stood; Samwise Gamgee, bent and grey, wearing a thick burgundy coat and a brown vest, embroidered with tiny silken leaves. And hanging valiantly from his shoulders was the familiar elven cloak, clasped at his neck with a green leaf veined with silver.

Frodo just stood there, his entire inner being quaking from shock and elation. He folded his arms with a grin and exclaimed, "You're late."

Sam frowned and whimpered, "I am?"

Frodo fell into laughter as his eyes misted in tears. He grabbed Sam and squeezed him with a warm hug, patting him upon the back, as Sam began laughing.

The old Hobbit dabbed at his eyes and stepped back to look at Frodo. He shook his head with a grin and said. "Now, Mr. Frodo, bless my soul, if you haven't aged much more than a day, and here _I_ am old and grey!"

Frodo continued to laugh and raised his arms to the blue sky and cried, "It is the sunshine!" And just as Meli walked out of the door, he leaned over to Sam and said in a little whisper as his brows danced on his forehead, "And it is love!"

He walked over and took her hand, leading her over to Sam. "Sam, this is my Melanna."

Meli's face lit up like a burst of sunshine, "Sam!" she cried.

Bleary eyed, he stood there mesmerized, speechless; for Meli, in all of her happiness had become mature and radiant. It was a beauty that had rarely touched Sam's eyes and she reminded him of the star gleam that glistened from the lovely elven eyes of Arwen and Galadriel. Yet she warmly eased him out of his spell with laughter and a warm hug.

Gandalf came wandering out of the door to see what all the commotion was. The old wizard began laughing with this welcome sight. He kneeled down and took up both of Sam's hands shaking them as Sam smiled sweetly. "Samwise Gamgee! Well, look at you!" he cried.

Then the words Meli could not contain came spilling out as she clutched his arm. "Sam! Our son, Sammy…have you seen our Sammy?"

Frodo froze, and the seconds seemed like centuries until Sam answered. Gandalf stood up, placing his hands on his hips in anticipation.

Smiling, Sam slowly proclaimed, "Yes, I've seen 'em."

He paused teasingly and Frodo punched his shoulder, gently "Come on, tell us!"

Sam took a deep breath and exclaimed, "He is my son in-law! Married my little Rose he did, and they have a little girl! Well, she is not so little anymore. She is grown, carrying on your name Ma'am, and my Rosie's." He leaned closer to Meli and whispered sweetly, "We call her Meli Rose."

Awe and laughter filled the air as this news tickled them and all through that night Sam related much more news, as much as he remembered, giving his account of Sammy's life in the east. But only the happy things, for he did not have it in his heart to share the griefs that mortal life had placed on their son.

He then presented the Blue Book to little Bilbo, gently rubbing its cover in thought as he passed on the fulfilled promise of long ago. Bilbo looked down at the heavy binding that lay in his hands. He had never completely come to terms with the pain of his brother's leaving. But now in his hands lay a new peace and his heart was lighter for it. He turned and walked over to his father, and gently laid the book in his hands with quivering lips.

Frodo immediately felt as though he were touching the very shoulder of his son, and it made him feel warm and happy. His faced flushed red and his eyes glimmered in holding tears and he then laid his hand upon Bilbo's shoulder.

Bilbo read the Blue Book aloud after supper –Gandalf and the whole family, all gathered around the fire as they learned more of Sammy's life. For Sam, it was a revelation of the intensity of Sammy's love for their family. He had always known that Sammy loved them, but he did not know it was as profound as it was.

It was a whirlwind of sensations for all and this went on for many nights, for the book was very thick. No words could express their feelings as the book detailed Sammy's emotions; his experiences, his loves, his grievances as he lived each day of his life in Middle Earth.

News of the Fellowship was wonderful to hear for Frodo. He had often wondered what fate had fallen upon them, each and everyone. Sammy took great care to detail it all for his father.

Now Frodo felt at peace at the state of the Kings realm for often he had wondered if the War had really accomplished enough to cleanse the land.

Meli shuttered at Sammy's experiences in the rivers and was saddened at the state of Imladris, but she was relieved to learn the library had been preserved and was now being enjoyed by those who would truly appreciate it.

Heavy sighs filled the air as the journal recounted Sammy's experience in Moria. He didn't go into great detail about what was written in the diary other than to reveal the emotions that it placed upon him. Sammy's passage ended with a promise, a promise for Galadir that his prayer would continue to be answered, **"…_that the eyes that shall fall upon your pages will be the 'good hearts and soft souls' of the Shire. It is now a memorial, to remind them; to never to take their freedom for granted."_**

Each heart in the house of Baggins fell in love with Rose as Sammy described her. They could feel his intense love in his words. They could see the joy that she brought him.

Then one night they reached the part where Sammy found out Rose was pregnant with their first child. Bilbo's tone as he read had always been most emotive as his old feelings for his brother once again came to light. Knowing how dramatic his reading could be, Sam tensed; wondering how much was going to be revealed. His heart began to ache with the thought of the pain that would come to Frodo if he found out the depth of his son's pain.

And Meli tensed as well, as memory of that long ago dream filled her heart with sadness. She had never told Frodo about the dream, fearing to bring him pain that really didn't have to be. As long as he never knew how close his son came to utter despair, then he would never be hurt by that knowledge. She knew much about the state of mind that Sammy had been in that night. But she did not know all of the details that brought him to that level of grief. And she was sure to the very depths of her soul that she did not want to know. For it would be a pain that she feared she could not bear.

Bilbo read on, exemplifying Sammy's elation for the baby, as he poured intense feelings into the words. Then he shifted to melancholy as Sammy wrote briefly about the morning sickness and the other complications that Rose had suffered. Suddenly he stopped and read silently for a moment, turning the page back and forth in confusion.

Then he looked up at all of the puzzled faces about the room and explained, "It seems the passage stops here and begins anew several months later according to the dates."

Sam and Meli exhaled silently. Everyone turned and looked at Sam with wordless question in their eyes. He sat silent for a moment that seemed like an eternity; he shifted in his chair obviously uncomfortable. Meli bit her lip, knowing she could not say a word, else she would have to reveal the dream and all that she knew.

Frodo looked at his friend and though they were parted for many a year, he could read those eyes so certainly and he knew it was serious. Gently he said to Bilbo, "Read on, son. I'm sure it was nothing."

Bilbo continued to read and for the next few chapters, it was life as usual with nary a word about a baby or a child. The family let it drop; realizing it was not Meli Rose, knowing better than to ask, for it was pain that was long gone and no good would come from the knowledge of it. They tucked it away, hidden deep, along with their tears, never to be brought out again.

And so they continued each night, marveling at the words that brought Sammy back to their lives. They celebrated all of his blessings, grew from his wisdom and felt his love once again. It was wondrous for them. But the most joyous part of all, was the birth of little Meli Rose. Bittersweet were the sighs that filled the house as the book detailed her upbringing, her marriage and the birth of Colter Farrell. For every heart longed to know them, to touch them, to hold them -but they knew they never would.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

**Frodo's Family**

Raw nature, bursting in color, melodic in the sounds of the birds and the waves, fascinating as it offers a million things to do and yet as peaceful as a lazy sunny day spent dreaming on a hammock…

Frodo swung gently in the breeze as his hammock rocked in rhythm. He savored this time of rest, for it had been an especially busy month after Sam arrived. After all introductions had been made, and the Blue Book was thoroughly read, the two went on a little adventure as Frodo showed Sam all around the island. It tickled him how much Sam had revived since the moment he arrived. This place seemed to feed the very soul with vigor!

Yet relaxation came easily as Frodo lazed and stretched, enjoying every moment of this peace within a sling. Sam was sitting on the lawn with Eowyn and little grandson, Thalion. They were reading one of the books from the library; The Land of the Mallorn, by Bilbo Baggins, son of Frodo. Sam was fully immersed, for the love of tales had never left him and Thalion was equally drawn into his father's book, once again.

Eowyn just wanted to be near Sam. Frodo had noticed the moment she had met him that she was in awe of this old Hobbit. And now that he looked back, it was she that had spoke of him most often, eagerly awaiting his arrival. It was she that had asked him to repeat over and over the bedtime tales of Samwise the Brave. It was she that chose and prepared his room the day he arrived. Frodo was amused at how she meticulously arranged every piece of furniture, filled the room with flowers, and smoothed the covers on his bed obsessively. And from that day forth, she spent much time with him, listening intently to every tale he told, and she laughed the loudest at his yarns.

To Sam, she was golden like a yellow daisy on a spring day. She reminded him so much of Peregrin Took that he sometimes giggled, seemingly for no reason. Yet, at times she reminded him of his little Rose, and his Ruby and his Robin. It must have been the bit of Hobbit in her, which brought it about, he thought. He begged a song from her every chance he had, for it was ever soothing to his ears. She had a sweet voice like a small child, though mature in skill as womanhood had reached her many long years before. And she did not mind when he asked, for she filled her song with that special place in _her_ heart for Sam. He was to her the most wondrous celebrity who became her adoring Uncle, a warm friend, and even a second father in her eyes.

Now, of all of Frodo's children, it was Eowyn that mostly tugged on his heart with anticipation of her future. Eowyn had not yet married, and that would be fine for she had many friends and he knew she would never be lonely. But he also knew she was in love. It was love on her part alone, for the man in her eyes did not notice her presence. He was Galmän, a cousin of Giliath's. Deeply involved in the politics of the Colters, he was concerned about the population that was growing to great size in the new city. Accommodations were a must and planning was essential! Too busy was he to care for 'frivolous relationships' as his mind viewed love, so therefore he did not see Eowyn. And on the rare occasion that he did, he was cruel to her.

"Go away little lady," he would say with annoyance in his tone.

He was a child of Moria; battered heart and bitter thought haunted his sleep. All of the natural merriness of the Colters had left him and he could not find love or healing, nor even cope with life without immersing himself deeply into his business.

Yet Eowyn was not hurt, nor impatient. She was content for this time to stand back and watch him with tolerance, for he could do no wrong in her eyes. When Meli approached her in private she explained that she had foreseen that eventually in time he would come to know healing. He would see her and appreciate the love that she held ever so patiently in waiting. Still, it stirred Frodo's heart; he wondered if it truly was foresight, or just a wishful dream.

Frodo's thought became distracted as Sam let go a 'Hoot!" He was tickled at the way that Bilbo had described Gimli's attraction to Lady Galadriel. It was written in an amusing and very cute way and every time Frodo heard it, he wondered what Gimli was up to these days.

He watched Sam for a while until his eyes grew sleepy and his mind began to wander through his life…family, children, and grandchildren; friends so golden in heart that their love could be tasted in the aura around them! The love of his wife; so tender and attentive that his heart purred at the very thought of her. 'My life has been true bliss at Tol Eressëa." He thought. "And now Sam has arrived!"

He had thought about him often, through out the years and missing him had been a sadness that had nagged him with anticipation of this time. Frodo now felt the urge to dote upon Sam, serving his every need, relishing his every moment and filling him with the stored up love that he had been preserving for this day.

Frodo smiled in his drowse. The old Hobbit was bewildered! This change in roles was completely unexpected for him. But he was limited by age and frailty. And as the days began to pass, Frodo noticed a peace that had finally settled upon him, easing him into acceptance and routine as the healing commenced. It was so subtle yet it seemed he had begun to forget the evil haunting that had beleaguered him. But deep and dark within his heart, forever would live an ache that could never be healed…an ache for his Rosie. And Frodo knew this.

He opened an eye and watched Sam as he listened intently to Thalion's emotive reading. Another grin widened his cheeks as he noted the glisten in Sam's eyes as the boy read. Frodo alone knew the memories that were stirring within Sam's heart. Eowyn and Thalion had heard all about the beauty of the Golden Wood as did all of Frodo's family. But none could see it in their hearts, feel it within their souls, or taste it with their breath as those who had actually been there.

Frodo laid his head back again and let the sleepiness overwhelm him. Soon he was drowsing in memory of Sam's arrival.

Eowyn had chosen for him, Sammy's large bedroom on the ground floor. One by one as he was introduced to each member of the Baggins family, he began to feel as though he were back home, nestled contentedly within his own relations. Frodo's sons now had wives and children of their own, filling the house near to its capacity just like Bag End.

Just as it was for Eowyn, it was remarkable for Frodo's other children as well, to have the one and only Samwise 'The Brave' among them! The tales and adventures they had listened to from their father's words throughout the years had also built them up to an intense eagerness to meet him. Even Meli longed for the day and now that it had come, they showered him with attention. It was affection like Sam had never felt and as he got to know each and every one of them, he settled a little bit deeper into contentedness. Once again, Frodo smiled in his dream as he thought about how wonderful it was that Sam now knew his beautiful Meli, his children and grandchildren. And one by one, his family entered the sweet dream…

'Meli…my Melanna, my love's gift,' he thought. "How, in all of Arda did I come to deserve her love?" Long gone were the old flickers of horror, shame and guilt that had riddled him into leaving Middle Earth. They were tucked away into an acceptance of his fate and forgotten as well as his need to have been a hero. Mordor now seemed a faded and distant shadow that had grown from blackness to untouchable grey and haze; all because of her love. Frodo was immensely relieved that her own healing within the peace and beauty of Aman had seemingly become complete. How he adored her bright smile as it greeted him every morning! It made him forget that the pain had ever touched her; and it made him forget his own.

His children…each and every one of them had played a part in the mending of his heart. How blessed he felt to have had the opportunity to hold his own flesh and blood, to witness their first smiles, to hear their first giggles. After all that he had been through, he had never imagined it would ever be possible!

He thought about the Blue Book and what his son had become…his Sammy. How proud he was. Memories of long ago songs filled his dream…Sammy's golden tenor, the gentle strum of his harp, the sweet soothing sound of his flute. Their healing qualities embraced the echoes of the trauma, dulling it into smoke as it slithered out of the chimney and blew far away, into the void. How the boy brought him peace.

Merry, his oldest twin…he had immediately matured into his role as the eldest son after Sammy left; he was the strong one. He took it upon himself to console Little Bilbo and the others by spending time with each sibling in a mentor role. He even went as far as to forego his adventures for a while -to immerse him self into each sibling's talents and preferences in order to further spark their interests and draw them away from the grief. Even Frodo and Meli were gently guided, to keep busy in life, leaving their broken hearts tucked away for only an occasional reflection. As time soothed their hearts, Merry let them all go, ever slowly and subtlety until he felt they could stand on their own, without his aid.

Now, he spent his days hunting and gathering, for he knew the island well from all of his childhood excursions. He paid special heed to respect nature on Tol Eressëa, by studying all variations and learning their idiosyncrasies in order to live in harmony with the land to its fullest. He took only that which was needed to keep a healthy environment among the wildlife and he replaced the growth that he took, with saplings and seeds, tending their needs until maturity.

Coivinya called to him as well, as desire to educate the Colters found its necessity within his drive. Every meeting that was held in regards to the planning and development of the city, included Merry, as the most outspoken and knowledgeable member. However, some became irritated when his advice steered the committee away from their desires. And he battled them vehemently until they fully understood the ramifications of their plans. It was in this way that he met the woman of his desires.

Frodo remembered well how he met her. He happened to be at that particular meeting that day. She was the daughter of a haughty Blacksmith who had often brought debate to the meetings. This time he had wanted to take the healthy trees that surrounded the city for firewood in lieu of traveling a bit further into the forest where he could gather the dead branches or take the effort to trim, rather than destroy. He too, was one of the few who had healed distortedly both physically and emotionally from his trauma in the caves of Moria. His wife had perished along with the few and all he had left was his daughter. Any help that had been offered to him had been bitterly refused.

A heated debate took place in which Merry almost lost, for he was so enthralled by her presence that he kept loosing his train of thought. It was out of the ordinary that she would accompany her father to such a meeting. But with the old Blacksmith's busy day he brought her along to kill two birds with one stone, saving him time and travel across the city. Afterward, she was to assist him in barter with some of the dresses she had made, to supply him with tools.

Thankfully, Merry had the support of the other members of the committee and the Blacksmith ended up stomping out of the Hall leaving his daughter bewildered, blushing with embarrassment.

Merry walked out of the Hall and found her standing in the street with a lost look on her face. She had not been able to catch up with her father. Graciously he approached her with an offer to walk her home. His inner thought was beaming at this good fortune as he introduced himself, "By the way, my name is Meriadoc Baggins."

"I know who you are, Merry" she said shyly with a crimson blush glowing on her cheeks. His striking physique had aroused her desires long before this day. However, the Colter way was rich within her as timidity held her from speaking further or looking straight into his eyes.

But he was a leader, an elf who was bold and aggressive. He would not let this opportunity pass him by and before the year was out, he had taken to wife, Liliath, daughter of Balëgon the Blacksmith.

They had a son; Gerith, so named for his resemblance of Meli's father, but as he grew his personality made him resemble Little Bilbo more. And he followed his Uncle in awe, as his own artistic talents bloomed.

Frodo would never forget the feeling in his heart at holding his first grandson. 'Gifted,' he thought. He felt gifted so wondrously that a small tear trickled across his temple as his dream recalled the moment.

And then he thought of little Meleth. Merry and Liliath also had a daughter; Melethdinín so named by Liliath who was lulled by her silent nature at birth. Frodo's dream envisioned mother and daughter with Grandmother Linanna, engrossed in their interest of sewing and embroidering -producing many tapestries, cushions and clothes. It gave Frodo a cozy feel to hear their chatter in the back room of the hall, three beautiful ladies; from an ancient elf that had taken the role of Mother in his heart, to his daughter in-law who held the love of his son in her palm, to their little child who was as delicate as a soft rose, pink in new life.

For Sam, they created a beautiful pillow, embroidered with the likeness of Bill the pony. Frodo smiled again in his dream, for he knew it touched Sam deeply as he cherished it in memory of his friend of so long ago.

Pippin, a son who had brought him many fears; Frodo knew deep down that it had been the curiosity of this lad that had taken the twins into many dangerous situations. He could only shake his head in wonder at the similarity between his cousin and his son. But just as deep down, he knew that this lad had it all under control, all along. And there never really was too much to worry about. Most of his worry had been for nothing.

Pip married the opposite of his twin's wife. His wife, Silanna had a robust and very vocal song on her lips. She never feared to let it be heard, even with her extra tiny stature. It was she that approached Pippin as he worked on a stone path that cut artistically across the city park. Masonry had become his passion as he learned to cut and build with rock, designing the borders and paths in the beautiful city of Coivinya. It was a way in which he could remain within the caves of the Island, gathering his supplies with respect and awe. He had always been entranced by the beauty of rock, but when Silanna approached, his desires were fully swayed her way.

They had no children but neither seemed to mind. Silanna also held love for the natural beauty of the Tol. So life kept them busy as between his jobs they continually explored the vast island depths and jungles. She was not such a swimmer as he, but she could hike farther and deeper into the caverns than even his endurance would allow. They spent most of their nights under the stars huddled, skin against skin in a single bag as their clothes dried from the afternoon rains, and the crickets sang as the breezes cooled their lungs in slumber. Most of their meals were held over a campfire with tales to entertain, some happy, some sad. Yet they always found time to pop home for ale and good Baggins company.

The sound of Thalion's voice took hold of Frodo's dream at this point as his reading became breathless and enthralling. He had reached a point in the story where the elves were saying their farewells to the Fellowship. It was obvious the author, Bilbo, was drawing from the majesty of the Lady Galadriel as he, himself knew of her. And it was obvious that Thalion was just as beguiled.

He was Little Bilbo's son, and Frodo's youngest grandson. He had taken a special interest in the Lady from the Golden Wood, drawing from her all the lore of Middle Earth that he could, just for the glory of knowing. Bilbo and Frodo had already spent much time teaching and filling the lad with tales, but the chemistry was more evident with Galadriel. Thalion and the Lady spent many long hours together, talking and reading, walking and reflecting. This completely delighted Meli and it warmed Frodo's heart, for the Lady was as dear to him, as she was to all.

Thalion was so named by his maternal grandfather, Lord Randelin -for he was born thick and strong. Lord Randelin and his wife, Loriel, had settled into a quiet life in their healing on the island. The loss of their son, Giliath, had been painful and with the revelation of his deeds, their pain intensified. The repentance of their son however, brought relief to them and they were comforted that he now slept in peace for they knew nothing of his encounter with Meli. Now they focused all of their attentions upon Giliath's little sister, Thalion's mother.

She was named Tinuivor, a crystal star for she had a dark but rich beauty about her as a night glistening in ice. Her experience in the mines of Moria had left a profound impact on her as she came of age under the evil abuse of the Orcs. It left her a dotting daughter, caring for her parent's needs, never letting on about the bitterness that had pierced her heart.

Little Bilbo was smitten with her early in his youth and as he caught up with her in his pace of maturity, he was persistent enough to get her attention and keep it in spite of his shyness. And as her love for him grew, the bitterness dissolved and slowly faded away. They courted long before they finally married for it took quite a lot of coaxing for her to realize that her parents would be fine without her.

Her parents lived deep in the heart of Coivinya, in a tiny little house that had only two large bedrooms. Basking in retirement, they rarely went out and spent most of their time in their garden, tending tiny bulbs and beaming over them when they burst into wide color. They were very fond of Bilbo as they got to know him. His talents delighted them and his warm, soft spoken manner emitted an aura of deep thought, compassion and wisdom. For a while they were oblivious to the reason for delay, thinking their daughter and Bilbo were comfortable in their situation.

Then one day in a moment of frustration, Bilbo could wait no longer. He gathered a lovely bouquet of lilacs and in his deepest emotive display he revealed his love and desires for marriage and children in the presence of her parents. Tinuivor blushed crimson with this unexpected moment. She looked up at her parents, unsure of what she should say in their presence. She was desperate to make Bilbo understand that they needed her. But when her eyes met her Mother's they were filled with anxious tears and suddenly she realized their desires for a grandchild.

She choked out the words to her parents, "Who will take care of you?"

"Dear Tini," said her father in her childhood name, "We will be fine. Go on my, child, follow your heart."

And so it was, the two fell deeper into loveliness as wedded bliss brought forth little Thalion and all looked upon this sweet boy as a treasure to behold. A treasure to bring joy for many, many long years, for the elvish blood was rich within him as it was for all of Frodo's grandchildren –they all aged at the rate of an elf.

Tini now lived happily in the Baggins household, tending the needs of the family along side Mother Meli, and visiting her parents often enough to satisfy her need to know, that all of their desires were met.

Young Thalion finished the book and closed it gently with a sigh that blended heavily with one from Sam. Barely a moment passed and he began asking the old Hobbit question after question about all that he had experienced in Lothlorien. Sam was delighted to oblige.

Frodo slowly awoke and rolled cautiously onto his side, wary of the tricks a sling can throw. He scrunched the small pillow deeper beneath his neck and moved his body so the hammock would gently swing. And once again he smiled as he noted the wide, blue eyes on his grandson as the boy listened intently to Sam's every word. He was a curious child, forever asking questions, learning all that he could about anything and everything.

Thalion -strong and bold he would remain as he grew and all this was good, for little did Frodo know, that eventually he was destined to govern the Colters as the Elders sought leisure and retirement.

Frodo looked up and saw Gandalf approaching with Galmän. Gandalf; he was so wise, and he was so dear to Frodo's heart. He was family now, deeply settled into the life of this little Baggins and very rarely left on any adventures these days. He had much purpose here now, for he often brought one of the little elves down the beach for a peaceful stroll and occasionally, home for lunch. Many of the little elves had resumed their merry ways, and continued life in happiness in Aman. But there were still few, who could not embrace the joy and peace of this new land. The haunting of Moria was deep, as deep as the caverns within the mountain that held them in terrifying slavery. Perhaps it was loneliness, for some had lost their loved ones there, or perhaps it was that their own personal experiences were too traumatic to forget on their own. Gandalf had poured his all into the situation, but it was a meticulous and long process, assisting the little elves in the mending of their hearts. Frodo and Meli welcomed them with open house and open heart assisting Gandalf in this way, for his days were quite busy in counsel.

Hanging in a hammock, blanketed by warmth and peace, Frodo gave thanks in his thought for the love and family that now graced his life. Memory of his long ago journey and all of the evils of Mordor had faded into far away shadow that could never penetrate his sunshine. Many more wondrous years filled with family and love would fill the life of this honorable little Hobbit. And many more thanks would be whispered by his sweet lips.

He stretched and smiled at it all, then briskly arose to aid Meli in preparation of a lunch so scrumptious it could heal the very core of any soul.

_Author's note: Don't go away, more to come! There is always room for a little more. ;)_


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

**A Long, Lovely Journey**

The years rolled on and Sam's days were now filled with leisure as old age demanded his body and strength. But he seemed happy, content as any Hobbit could feel as he took his place day by day in Frodo's hammock, cheerfully doted upon by the Baggins family. Someone was always around him, reading books, or just keeping peaceful company. And all felt immense satisfaction at presenting the old Hobbit with a meal, for his old green eyes glistened in joyous anticipation of that first bite. He would always follow it with a very satisfied, "Mmmm mmmm".

Frodo sat with him most often, and it was Frodo who warily took the old Hobbit for his morning exercise walks. They walked the path that wound its way into the woods, avoiding the drudgery of walking on sand. Sam loved these walks, ever leaning on Rosie's cane, taking in the beauty and marveling at the variations of birds and their songs. They always seemed to compliment each other as the chirping sounds of one species would blend in harmony with another's whoops and yet another's caws. It sometimes made Sam giggle when a note or two of silliness seemed to join in. And the walk was a gardener's delight as the various species of plants entertained him. It seemed he always found at least one new one, although they walked the same path each and every day, over-writing their previous footsteps and smelling, hello to the same flowers.

About two thirds of the way, they would pass along the foot of the mountain where Old Bilbo was buried and they would stop and reflect on the memories. Often they would relive old tales and sometimes they would sigh in a moment of silence, but they _always_ gave thanks for his life, which had truly blessed them.

One morning as they walked the woods, Sam was in a particularly chattering mood and talked almost not-stop, as they strolled slower than usual. His chatter was jovial as he reminisced about this or that and then every once in a while, in unending astonishment, he commented on how slowly Frodo was aging.

His eyes twinkled as he said, "It seems there is a purpose, Mr. Frodo, if you get my meanin."

Then he went on about his family with little tidbits about each. Like his daughter, Ruby and "her growing days".

"She wasn't a shy girl, by any means, but she knew her manners, she did. Yes, she was a special one. Oh they were all so special and mind you, I did not hold favorites among my children…but _oh_ was she special. How I wish you could have met her…just once. Aye! And there was many a beau that attempted her favors, but for naught, other than a walk home, mind you. No Sir, she held her own, right up to the moment she met her…"

Abruptly Sam changed the subject and went on and on about how Sammy was, with his son Bilbo; how he had taken the lad on adventures into the woods just like Frodo was doing for _him,_ now.

"Sammy was just tickled to learn that my Rosie and I also had a boy, named Bilbo! An' he always gave him extra attention..."

Frodo's heart warmed at the topic of this discussion, for talk of Sammy was always his favorite. Sam spoke long about him as though he could feel Frodo's delight, but soon his chatter began to wander into confusion.

Frodo's brow crinkled in worry as the old Hobbit chattered nonsense for a few moments. Then he seemed to come back to reality and stopped quickly as the silence echoed in the trees. Even the birds went quiet.

But just as quickly as he stopped, he began again; speaking now clearly and sensibly as though he recovered his wit.

"Mr. Frodo," he said, "Did I ever tell you about the night that Sammy helped my little Rose deliver twin calves for your cousin, Angelica?"

Frodo smiled, "Yes, dear Sam, you told me that story, yesterday. But I'd love to hear it again, please go on, and tell me."

And they walked on through the chattering wood, basking in the warmth of the sun as it trickled in, between the leaves and danced as Sam's tongue swayed.

Soon they came upon Bilbo's grave just as the story had come to its end. Sam sat down quickly this time, for he was out of breath as his chattering competed with the stroll. He sat for a while with Frodo by his side as they reflected quietly until the old Hobbit captured his breath.

"Mr. Frodo, do you remember a tower?" Sam asked this in a strained voice as though he was struggling to remember.

Frodo's heart thumped as he comprehended what Sam was trying to remember. They had never spoken of any detail of their dreadful voyage since Sam had arrived on the Tol. It was lost in memory and they both had preferred to leave it that way. But now, for some reason, Sam was bringing it back.

"Why do you ask, Sam?" Frodo queried.

"Well, I had a dream, see." Sam was speaking breathlessly now and he laid down against the hill, with his grey hair meshing into the leaves. Frodo frowned. "We was in a tower, you and me…I had just found you!" Sam's eyes misted as he spoke on. "I had just found you, in a heap of filthy rags. I was so happy to find you! Happier than I have ever felt in all my life!" Sam's voice cracked and his tears rolled out of his voice.

Frodo half lifted his friend and held him tight against his chest, rocking him back and forth as his own tears welled up in his big blue eyes. "I was happy too, Sam…happier than I have ever been. Seeing you in that moment filled my heart with hope."

They sat in silent tears for a while until they all dried up and a smile was left on each face. Frodo continued to hold his friend as though letting him go would make them cold.

Sam gazed off into the thick of the woods and said, "Mr. Frodo, do you think Bilbo is sleeping? Or do you think he's off on another adventure in the far away land of another world?"

Frodo answered, "I don't know dear, Sam. But I would like to believe he is on a wondrous journey, through green hills and deep golden dells and singing his little poems in echoes through the blossoming trees."

With that, Sam smiled and whispered, "I think I would like to join 'em if I may, Mr. Frodo. Me and my Rosie, together on a long, lovely journey with our old friend, Bilbo." And he closed his eyes for the last time and whispered his last breath, "Rosie".

Sam softly left on a whisper of the morning, like a gentle breeze carrying a brown leaf far from its tree. Into the valleys of the halls he slipped -to a peaceful and tranquil sleep.

Frodo squeezed Sam gently and hugged him tighter against his chest. A sob erupted from his throat and his tears poured forth. But he felt at peace and he knew in his heart that his dear, Sam was with Rosie and his Uncle Bilbo. And they were beginning a wondrous journey together. Some day, he would join them.

Gandalf slipped quietly through the brush and kneeled before Frodo and Sam. He gently brushed a curly lock from the tears on his little friend's face and Frodo could see in his eyes the love that the old wizard had for Sam.

Together they laid his sweet body to rest, wrapped in his elven cloak next to Old Bilbo at the foot of the mountain. They staked the cane at the head of his grave and hung Elanor and ruby red Roses in lovely strands from the handle. And ever after a deer or a rabbit, or maybe a fox would come and sleep upon the grass that grew there; for it was warm with love, the love of a Hobbit whose heart was valiant.

From that day forth, Frodo began taking solitary walks every morning, to reflect on his life. He basked in the blessings of his family, his friendship with Sam, his fortune with Meli. He loved to breathe the ocean air. He loved to feel the warmth of the endless summer breeze massage his soul. It was his way to be alone with his creator, to give him love and thanks for the bounty of his life, in his own little way.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

**Always in Your Heart**

"Kir, kir" Meli woke to the sound of a birdsong outside the window and, as she opened her eyes, the first sight she saw was Frodo's sweet face as the morning sun tipped the horizon beyond the window. He was still sound-asleep, sweet and peaceful and she watched him breathe softly, noting the funny way that his hair had crimped and parted to the left. Unable to resist the urge to touch him, she gently reached up and moved it back into place.

A sigh of melancholy left her lips. Once more a dream had invaded her usual peaceful slumber and though it was only the second time, she worried that it would become a frequent occurrence, making it more difficult to hide from Frodo. And though her need to protect his bliss filled her in constant urgency, she pondered whether it was right not to tell him.

"If only the dream had visions," she thought with another sigh as though the cleansing of her lungs would cleanse the emotion that she could taste. But it was vague; a dream of mist and grey, with an aching loneliness that swelled upon her tongue. It left her with a restless feeling that she could not identify. "Was this a premonition, another glance at her future life, another experience of foresight?" she pondered this until panic began to edge into her consciousness.

Frodo stirred a little. Meli composed her self desperately, removing all thought of the dream from her mind. And knowing the one way to bring peace back into her heart, she moved closer and slid her arm over his chest and hugged his body, absorbing the warmth that emanated from him. He felt so good that it immediately cheered her, just as she knew it would. Slowly he opened his eyes to a sweet smile.

"Good morning", he said with a sleepy, raspy voice.

"Good morning", she returned as she leaned over to softly kiss his cheek.

They celebrated the morning as they had been doing for some time now -breakfast, a ride upon old Nessa to the falls for a quick wash, and flirting-play in the water for a while. Then they entered the cave to absorb the glorious floral and lie in the sun upon the moss in affectionate harmony.

By late morning, Meli was back in the kitchen, preparing second breakfast for what ever brood happened to be home and then she went out onto the patio in the back of the house where her easel stood. She had taken up painting, a hobby that indulged her delight in flowers, though she was not very good, but she enjoyed the effort and often painted over her previous attempts; layering one delight over the other.

Frodo commenced upon his usual morning walk in solitary reflection. It was years since Sam had passed, but these strolls still seemed a must. And it was on this particular day that he came upon his daughter Eowyn, along a lonely stretch of beach on the southwest edge of the island. He saw her from afar at first and it appeared that she was dancing with the waves as they rippled upon the shore. Then, he heard her song as it flowed on the breeze that cooled his face. It was a mix of joy and melancholy and Frodo thought it to be very strange.

Drawn to her in wonder, as worry about her emotional 'state of Galmän' came to mind a bit of anger welled up in him. His impatience for the elf to heal bubbled. But it was soon replaced by anxiety for Eowyn, as thoughts of her being in love-alone made him ache for his daughter.

"What if Galmän loves her not, even in healing?" he thought. "What if she awaits him alone to remain alone; broken hearted and bitter?"

However, that thought did not hold him for long. He was proud at the way his daughter had begun to handle it all. He was amazed at how swiftly womanhood had come upon her. It was swift in elven eyes, but as is with all fathers and daughters, it came far more quickly in his. This made him worry and he doted on her personal life just as any father would. Most of the time, she took it well, easing his need with thoughtful explanations, but she always held back in shyness her true feelings. Still, somehow Frodo seemed to know all that was in her heart. Lately however, his worries were eased at the way Eowyn went about life.

Galmän was not her priority. Eowyn had seized life and had indulged in her art with joy. She opened an art gallery in Coivinya and was giving lessons to many elves, young and old. Frodo had been amazed at the creative talents of the elves since he was very young and had first become exposed to them. But here in Aman it was astonishing! And Eowyn's delight came through in her talent as she poured her all into it.

Back at the house, in the lovely patio behind, Meli sat upon a stool with her canvas before her. She was now home alone as the family went about their day in various doings. As she painted, her mood slipped back into that melancholy that she had awoke with. She tried hard to remember the dream, but its lonely taste blocked her vision with grey. Her eyes misted and she could not see the canvas. But she continued to paint, urgently as though her hand were being guided by an outside impulse.

Her canvas began to capture her melancholy. It flowed, brown like a river, filled with depression, then shifted suddenly to yearning in greys. It was very similar to the grey of the halls that she had seen so many years ago. At first these feelings made her worry that something amiss had happened to Frodo as he walked, but as the feeling grew stronger, she realized it was her dream, not the blanket that Frodo's emotions subtly, billowed within. The canvas filled quickly with sadness and gloom. She felt as though it was a warning and a taste of bitterness began to rise in her throat. Quickly she swallowed it, burying it deep as though it may come out and threaten Frodo's happiness. She closed her eyes and trembled as she fought it.

"Meli, are you alright?" called Adreal as she came up the path to the garden.

Startled, Meli jumped up and knocked over the stool and her paints. She fell to the ground and attempted to clean up the paint, but she was smearing it all over the patio floor and soiling her dress.

Adreal sprang to her aid and with a worried cry asked her, "Meli, what is it? Why are you crying?" Then her eyes fell on the painting and she gasped! All she could say was, "Meli!"

Meli took her hands and drew her down into her arms. "Oh, Adreal, I…I am alright. Do not worry."

She smiled brightly to hide her feelings, hoping that Adreal's worries would quickly dissolve. But they pulsed fiercely when Adriel turned her head.

"Why, Meli?" she asked breathlessly pointing to the painting.

"I do not know," replied Meli as she let go of Adreal. A soft sob gurgled in her throat. "I feel it is something, within the colors…preparing me or perhaps forewarning me. But I do not know why. Come Adreal, help me quickly! I must clean up this mess and destroy it before Frodo sees it!"

They carried the painting over to the deck where they proceeded to build a fire in the pit. And once it flamed hot and fierce, Meli threw her canvas into the blaze. Tears once more touched her cheeks, yet she knew not why.

As Frodo approached Eowyn, she became aware of his presence; she suddenly stopped singing and blushed.

"Eowyn, my little flower, what is this sadness you sing of?" He called to her. "I hear you laughing, but I also hear your gloom."

Eowyn did not want to tell him; for the joy and the sadness were for _him_. She shook her head and said, "It is nothing, Poppy. Come, let's walk."

She took his hand and they walked for a while in silence but the weight was too heavy for Frodo. He began coaxing and finally as they sat down on the edge of a grassy knoll, looking out over the water, she opened up.

"Poppy, when Uncle Bilbo passed I learned of the gift of the second born. But I was very young and I did not understand it. Not until our dear Uncle Sam passed."

Frodo reflected for a moment on the relationship of his daughter and Sam. 'Uncle' she had called him and Frodo knew she was very fond of the old Hobbit's sweetness and simple manner. They had grown very close.

"I miss him, Poppy" she continued, slipping back into the little child she once was. "I realize now, that this gift will also be _yours_ someday." She looked at him with pain in her eyes. "It will bring such despair upon those who must go on."

Frodo slipped his arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her close. "My little Eo, please do not despair. Hear me, Lissenya. Keep this thought in your heart; I will _always_ be with you." His eyes twinkled as he reached up and touched her eyelids gently with the tips of his fingers. "I will be here, looking out for you as you go your way." He rubbed her back warmly, "And I will be here looking behind, bringing you memory." He took her hands in his and kissed them, "I will be here watching the beauty you create." He then tickled her knees, "And I will be here, to carry you forth, always with you, forever through the long years of your life."

She giggled and smiled warmly and placed her hand on her heart and said, "And you will be here; my Poppy's love held safely until the ends of the world."

She snuggled in closer to him and they sat long, looking out over the water as it glistened with sunlight.

A conversation came to Frodo's mind as he sat there holding his daughter in comfort. It was one that he had just a week before where he had commented on his mortality, to Meli. He was only joking about an ache that he had, from splitting too much wood. He mentioned that maybe he needed to make a cane; like the one Sam used. Meli was not amused and Frodo could see worry etched on her brow. She refused to speak of it any further and went about her chores as though it was forbidden discussion.

And now there was this with Eowyn. Frodo now realized he must prepare _all_ of his loved ones for the inevitable day that he must depart. Thankful he was that the aging of his remaining children had slowed to elven rate. It comforted him as that thought assured him that his Meli would never be alone. Still, there was one thing that continued to stew in his heart, but he was not ready at this time to expose it, even unto his outer conscience.

It was many years later, 1566 of the Fourth age in Shire Reckoning as Frodo continued to count time, whether the need was there or not. Gandalf used to laugh about this practice, long, long ago. Yet now with Frodo's mortality weighing heavily in his mind, he no longer found it funny. He had begun to remain at the Baggins home, forgoing his travels for quite a long time now; to relish in every moment with the small halfling he loved as a son.

Meli found Frodo sitting in the garden. His thought was deep, and his gaze was fixed. A peaceful look graced his face and he looked wondrous as ever in Meli's eyes. Yet she could see a change that had come over him in the past few seasons. His hair was greying in soft blends on each side and lately he stood a little bent. His eyes, though big and bright as ever had begun to rest a bit lower on his smiling cheeks. And he had slowed down in life too, no longer vigorous and joyously busy; now he was serene and tranquil, in his day to day routines.

For long ago, the Valar had sung sweet songs to Ilúvatar of this Ringbearer, and it had been gifted to Frodo of the Nine Fingers, and the Ring of Doom; longer life than any Hobbit had ever seen, for his deeds were great! But nearing 200 years was a far stretch for a Hobbit and he had begun to feel the thinness of time.

"What is it my love? Where are you?" Meli asked with a gentle laugh as she drew his head into a hug against her hip.

Frodo looked up at her and frowned and then he slowly sighed. "It is a thought that has grown heavy in my mind. I age, Meli, and as I age and I see that you do not, I feel concerned for your happiness. My mortality is waning and yet you will endure many more years in young beauty."

Meli touched his brow, noting the few strands of grey that softened his blue eyes and she sighed in return. "Frodo, you know how I feel."

Frodo had tried to have this conversation with Meli many times. But she always changed the subject or slipped away with something to do, refusing to discuss anything related to it. He took her hands this time and held them tight. "I know, my sweet Meli. I trust your love. Yet I find it harder and harder to bear the thought that my life is so short and you will be alone when I am gone; alone for _so_ long."

Meli shook her head, thinking of all the family that would be around her. She tried to pull away, "No, Frodo…"

But Frodo interrupted her and continued on. "A thought has been growing in my mind since long ago and now I must share it with you. I have felt a burden for another."

Now he had her curious and she became concerned that Frodo had a burden that she had not eased. "Whose burden is this?" She asked.

Frodo looked deeply into her eyes, his brows hung low, forlorn and sad. He whispered, "He loved you, Meli, and lost you. Loving you has been so wondrous for me that it makes me sad for how _he_ must feel. I…I ache inside for _his_ loss. And I can not deny that deep down in the depths of your heart there is great love for him that you have buried beyond awareness. I have known about it since the beginning."

Meli looked uncomfortable as though an old ache was once again coming to surface. Memories of mourning in her early days in Imladris arose to the forefront of her mind. She shook her head with each word Frodo spoke.

"Go to him, Meli. Go to him after I am gone. Bring him out and into your life."

Meli's eyes grew wide. She cried in a panic, "No! How can you say this? I can not love another, my dear Frodo! There is no replacement for you. I will lie down with you just as the spell demanded! I…" Suddenly the familiar bitter taste of that misty, grey dream of long ago came to her senses. It was the one that had haunted her twice, years before. She swallowed heavily.

Frodo interrupted her. His face was sad and his heart weighed heavy. But deep within his eyes, great relief burned. "The spell is broken, Meli. You will not die. And loving him will not replace my love; my love will always be there, inside you. But you can have his love too, it was true and you have love for him as well. I know this deep within my heart."

Meli shook her head and whispered, "I am going with you! The spell, it…it will take me too. I shall lie by your side!"

Frodo stroked her hand and continued. "No, my Meli, you are not ready. You are still young and alive. Our children need you. And you know that the spell is broken. Tell me, do you feel the ache that I feel in my heart as we speak of this?"

Suddenly Meli realized how important all of this was to Frodo's happiness. She felt his ache deeply, just as she had every other pain and sorrow that he experienced from the moment they were stabbed. But she knew well, that the spell was broken. She knew that now she felt his feelings as any wife would feel after long years of loving her husband. It was intuition now, not the spell. As always, she cared more for his peace, than for her own pain. She realized that she was bringing pain to him now, by denying his wishes. Yet she knew that she could never comply with this wish. Still, she could not lie. All Meli could do, was slowly shake her head and softly whisper, 'no'.

Frodo pulled her down to the bench and continued. "You were torn from him by fate. It weighs heavy on me, Meli. I feel it is meant to be. Do this for me, if you do it not for yourself. Let me sleep in peace, to know you are loved and not alone. Do not waste this gift. I promise you, my love will live on in your heart."

Meli could not stop herself. She continued to shake her head, as tears glistened in her eyes. Her voice was small and filled with sniffles, "Please, do not leave me."

Frodo looked away, unable to bear her look. How could he explain what it feels like to bear the thinness of time? "One hundred and ninety eight years, my Meli. I've lived most of it in blissful happiness that began with you. But night has fallen; I have come to journey's end."

He took her hand and gently pulled her close to him. He softly stroked her cheek with his lips, breathing in her scented beauty. They held each other tight, savoring the warmth as their bodies touched. And they basked in their love as their kisses soothed their sorrows.

Gandalf looked out at them for a moment from the kitchen window. Memory of their short years together tore at him. His love for them filled his soul and he knew that the gift of man was truly a blessing, but not for those left behind.

That evening as Frodo sat on the sofa, surrounded as usual by family and talk, he chattered on, more than usual; drawing in, each and every family member to his conversation and raising many laughs with a wink of his eye. He doted on little Eowyn and talked proudly to his sons. He flirted with Linanna and respectfully engaged Geren in interesting conversation. Every once in a while his eyes met Gandalf's and a sincere look of thankfulness would crease his brows. And all through the night, he held his Meli's hand, caressing it softly and squeezing it every once in a while. As the evening wore on, and little by little everyone went off to bed, he hugged them earnestly and kissed their cheeks with a heartfelt sigh.

Then he left for a walk; to breathe the ocean air, to feel the warmth of the late night summer breeze. It was his way to be alone with his creator, to give him love and thanks for the bounty of his life in his own little way.

Meli begged to go with him. But he insisted she stay behind and finish writing the song that she had begun. He took her into his arms once more and kissed her with all of his heart. Then he softly whispered into her ear, "I will sleep in peace, always and forever within your heart." She knew as he closed the door, that she would not see him again.

Meli told no one. She slipped into her room, closed the door and crawled into her bed. And there she lay in the loneliness of her room, begging for sleep, begging for the halls of grey, but it would not come, for deep within her heart resided a love that she could not deny. All she could do was curl up in trembling sorrow as Nienna came to hold her, and together they wept for Frodo's farewell.

Gandalf laid his sweet body to rest at the foot of the mountain, between Bilbo and Sam. And he planted Simbelmyne, Elanor and Niphredil. Many elves gathered both tall and small, to embrace the family and show their support. Confusion and shock covered the faces of the Colters, for mortal death was a thing they had not known; yet now here were three in such a short time. They were three that they loved and cherished; three that had been taken away into the whispers of the halls, to sleep forever more. A gift it was in their minds, but the pain of missing them was raw and it stung their hearts.

Frodo had tried his best to prepare his children for this day, and though it did not lessen the pain, it made it an easier burden to bear. And by their example of loving embraces and strong resolve, the Colters came to accept this loss and the shock faded ever slowly as though eased by a slow breath of clean air.

An age had now passed and the children of Frodo had grown into mature elves, wise and gifted, using the moral traditions that their father had taught them in every opportunity to teach. And as the unavoidable mourning they felt for their father invaded their dreams, they continued on in understanding of his mortality, and they were comforted by the fact that he now slept in blissful tranquility. Still, great sorrow had fallen upon them, though not so much with the passing of their father; it was for their mother.

Meli plunged deeply into life, keeping busy and involving herself in the lives of her family and community. But ever slowly over time, the taste of her grey dream became a vast reality. It was a dream that had vividly warned her of this time, but one that she had refused to acknowledge in the forefront of her mind.

Through their later years together, Frodo had tried to speak about this time, in hopes to also prepare her just as he did Eowyn. But she closed her mind to it, and could not remember his words. She felt cheated, robbed of the spell that should have taken her too. She did not understand that it was their love that eventually broke the spell and she could not let go of her grief, nor could she find comfort in celebration of the love that they had. Sadly, she denied Frodo's last wishes, hiding from the long stowed love that had resided within her. She busied herself to the extent that she denied herself any time alone in her waking hours to reflect on it. And that bitter taste now resided permanently on her lips.

Meli's loved ones knew that all was not well, deep within her. They could see it in her eyes; that bright and happy gleam seemed to have died. They made every attempt to help her find ways to cope. Many tried to counsel her, hoping to get her to open up. But in spite of all of the support her family gave her, even with the attentions of her parents and Gandalf, she refused to talk about it. She abruptly changed the subject each time, to only the happy moments and remembrances of Frodo.

Time passed by, and slowly her grief became increasingly thicker. Her family and friends became even more fearsome of what she might do, as the night began to haunt her in the shadowy gloom of her moonlight dreams.

As Meli worsened, Gandalf became ever more concerned. Some evil work had to be about. This was not his little Meli, nor her soul that resided in her eyes. He left for the mainland, to take counsel with the Valar.

It was a chilly morning, rare for this island. But a mist had settled in the folds of the land and a cool wind from the north had come down to gently brush the tops of the trees as though they held a new secret to tell.

Meli woke with a start. She was damp with sweat and her skin was cold as ice. Her breathing was rushed and it burned as it passed her throat. Another dream had come to her, one that had invaded her sleep many times since Frodo had departed.

He was hanging by a rock over a vast chasm of fire and his eyes told her -he wanted to let go.

She reached for him and screamed his name, "Frodo, no!"

And as he let go and began to fall, she awoke with a jolt.

She wondered if it was only her mind, her fears and the tastes of the evil that she had experienced; playing with her heart in wicked taunts. She prayed that Frodo slept peacefully in the loving arms of the Valar, but she did not believe it to be so. Somehow, she had come to believe this dream.

Her heart missed him so; she craved the feel of his embrace, the look in his eyes as he smiled upon her, the sound of his voice as his breath tickled her ears and the kindness he showed all. But all her dreams would give her was this horrid nightmare that would not go away. It was a weight far greater than the evil of the Ring and now it pulled on her so immensely that she could take it no more.

She sauntered dazedly down the spiral staircase off her balcony and entered the wood west of the house. An hour passed as her feet carried her to where only the depths of her mind knew. Her eyes were dry and determined, as though no tears were left to fall. Her breathing was deep and woeful. She reached the water and plunged in without a thought and she made her way to the small opening of their cave.

The water was cold, so cold she shivered as she grasped the rock, pushing herself through and up to the pool in the cave. But the surface was not there and to her horror the entire cave was filled with water –dirty and black, moldy and spoiled. She needed air badly and knew she did not have time to retreat back to the outside. Suddenly, she believed that she was going to drown!

Frantically she swam for the opening at the top; the light was so easy to see. But she could not reach it. The water pulled her into the darkness, forcing her to the back of the cave and just when she thought her lungs would burst, she was thrust up into a small pocket of air at the very top. In the blackness, great gasps emerged from her lungs and her cough was hoarse. She painfully, pulled in the putrid air; it was as though rot had begun. The mithril on the ceiling barely shimmered in dull grey as though it too was melancholy and could not capture the light nearby.

Meli hung for a while gathering breath and wondering what had happened and why she had come in the first place. For a moment she refused to acknowledge what she had intended to do, as though the water had woken her from a dream. But the yearning returned from deep within her heart. She wanted to sleep forever more, upon the green moss within their cave, on the very spot that she and Frodo had laid so many times. But now it was gone, engulfed in the frigid waters!

She cried out in frustration, "Why? Why will you not let me be? Please, I do not want to go, in this way!"

A hideous laughter began to echo though the water, deep; as deep as the vast grey ocean. Woeful and thick, the intensity of the chortles could be felt as a cavernous bass within her soul. It wrapped around her body as a cold glove and it held her fiercely within the pocket, shoved up against the cold ceiling with angry force.

He taunted her in judgment, "You turn your back on those who love you as though they feel nothing…to give up your life in grief, for a mortal! You are no better than your son!"

"I have tried, Ossë! I…" Meli choked on the water as it swelled up above her chin.

"You have broken my heart, little one." Ossë now purred deeply. "Yes, from the moment your voice first touched the river I have been there for you. Your song sweetened the waters and your laughter filled me with joy. You have been like a child to me. You know this. I have brought you gifts from the depths of the waters to marvel at. But you care not. Now you wish to end it all, in the prime of your immortal life, even foregoing the last wishes of the Hobbit you claim to love!"

"I do love him Ossë!" cried Meli, "I do!"

The Maia, softened with those words, for he knew them to be true, but he was not about to let go of his anger. He taunted her with disgust. "Even now as we speak, the Valar sit in counsel…" He sneered in a high pitched whine, "What is this evil, within our Little Colter Elf?" Then his voice returned to the hideous taunts, "You have no evil left in you, Melanna. Only shame…shame and guilt. You _want_ to die!"

Meli choked on the bitter taste as it welled in her throat, "Yes," she cried, "Yes, it is what I deserve!"

Suddenly the water frothed furiously. Higher it rose, forcing Meli to bend her head back as far as she could, to keep her mouth and nose above it.

"Please, Ossë!" screamed Meli as she trembled uncontrollably, choking on the water that made its way into her mouth and nose. She shrieked in fear, "Please! Do not take me in this way!"

"Ossë! Let her be!" boomed a familiar voice.

The water receded enough for Meli to breathe. Uinen covered the little elf with warmth and gave her soothing air deep into her lungs. Then she carried her upon her hair, through clean, blue water to the opening in the ceiling of the cave where the light burst through in glory. Meli surfaced with a gasp and as the clean air filled her lungs she noticed the sun shining above the mist, but the fog would not burn away.

Disoriented, she looked around wondering where she was. Then she realized she was six feet from the opening in the ceiling of the cave. A fall splashed down in shattered white and within its silver glass could be seen more of Uinen's hair. She swam to the locks that plunged down into what was once her oasis and she climbed heavily up them until she reached the top of the massive rock.

Disbelief filled her eyes as she discovered that the land had been flooded threefold and the little stream that had fed her pool was now a wide river! And here she was stranded on an island, at the lip of a hollow crater!

The blackened water in her cave began to furiously rise. She looked around in desperation at the current that flowed swiftly around her. Ossë's laughter could be heard as it frothed. But a feeling of defiance filled her and she plunged over the side and began taking great strokes. The river carried her in laughter quite a way down but she had the advantage of her strength in the water and she had complete trust in Uinen. With gasping determination, she made it to dry land.

Meli lay gasping upon the grassy shore, blanketed in the leaves with longing to sleep. She absorbed the fresh scents of the grass beneath her and she gave thanks for the life that she had been blessed with. But the fog rolled in ever thicker and once again the vision of Frodo hanging from the rock came to her mind and she cried for forgiveness.

"Please, let him sleep in peace, for I can not deliver what he asked. I do not deserve such love."

She left her tears upon the grass as her memories of her life with Frodo filled her in shame. "I did not deserve such love." She whimpered. The loneliness continued to cover her in grey mist and grief saturated her heart. Her Frodo was gone and he would never return. And Giliath would never forgive her, for what she had done to him. Softly as a sigh that flows through the trees, she left upon the whispers of that morning and entered the Halls of Mandos, seeking relief from a grief that had been far too hard for her little soul to bear.

Gandalf had a notion that something was amiss as he rode across Tol Eressëa, in the direction of the Baggins home. His visit with the Valar had not been informing and it gave him little peace, for they gave him no indication of what was the cause, what they knew or what would be done. He rode hard, through the night with anticipation and he cut through the forest taking a shortcut that he had used many times before. As he rode deeper into the thick of sunrise, to his wonder the air became misty with a low fog that cooled the breeze. To his memory this had never happened before on this island. Then to his dismay, he noticed the small creek that flowed from the north had grown into a wide river, and it had forked off to the southwest with rapids that flowed uphill!

Bewildered he dismounted from Shadowfax and approached the bank for a closer look. As he looked around the countryside with wonder, his eye was caught by a shimmer of blue in the thick brush about a hundred yards away, up stream –or was it downstream. It did not matter for the moment, because his heart gave a jolt with the familiar color of the nightgown that Meleth had made for her grandmother; it was the color of Frodo's eyes.

He made his way desperately fast as his mind pushed him on the edge of panic. But when he reached her it turned to despair, for he knew even before he touched her that she was dead.

"No," he whispered, "no, dear Meli."

Suspended in soft grey, the soul of the little Colter Elf sang in soft murmurs. There she lay in a swoon for what seemed ages, giving her heart a chance to settle down and rest amid the peace that had covered her. Thoughtless and easing were her dreams. They were filled with a gentle song as a soft spring rain in silver shimmers, gently swirling in warmth, as a cradle in the arms of cleansing love.

After what seemed to Meli a long age, another song began in the familiar and soulful voice of Nienna, warm but firm, wordless but beautiful and its meaning was understood…_**Why do you weep?**_ _**What is this grief upon your face?**_ _**He is safe in my arms…just sleeping.**_

Meli let go of the grief with a gasp in relief as the words repeated in echoes. _**"He is safe in my arms…just sleeping." **_

Her soul sighed. Within her dream she accepted the peace that was all around her. And with that peace, suddenly all was revealed.

She saw the immense love of her creator. She saw his ever guiding hand as a Father, who allowed her to shape her own life, make her own mistakes and learn from them with her own choices. But she also saw that the choices of others affected her as well; choices of those she loved and choices even of those she did not know. And as she always knew, she was affected by the choices of those who were evil. What surprised her, was the choices of those that she least expected. They had touched her so profoundly; for all along the way opportunities in her life had been gifted through the designs of the Valar.

Long ago, before the blade had pierced their lives, the evil had been foreseen by the sorrowful Vala, Nienna; and it was too much for her heart to bear, for she could also see the love that had been gifted to them. And as she did for many of the children of Ilúvatar, she wove her threads of aid where she could. But the evil was powerful and thick in its tapestry of blackness. Heavy it was, with cold and pain.

Nienna wove aid in many colors of soprano; embroidered into the fabric of _all_ the lives that had touched Frodo and this little Colter Elf. And Ulmo heard her and was so moved, to weave his expressions of blue and green bass, through the power of water. And Earendil heard her and was so moved, to weave silver and white tenor; comfort through light. Even the Maia, Ossë and his spouse Uinen, heard Nienna's songs; for the moment Meli first touched the water, she tamed his sneering laughter and brought golden song upon Uinen's tresses. And with great love for little Meli, they wove their aid in grey purrs, and golden shimmers; gently covering the black in every way that they could. All together, songs were made through the tapestry of life and loves of this little Colter Elf. It blanketed her now with contentedness; in hopes to free her heart for whatever fate it was designed.

The wordless song of Nienna continued, revealing meaning for Meli, _**"Frodo's love lives on in your heart, though you hide it from yourself. Was it not his wish that you be loved until the days of end cover all creation? And is it not that "love" that aches through the Halls of Mandos, begging to be released and marveled in? And is it not that "love" which was born within you as you grew from a child?**_

Meli now remembered Giliath, and she remembered his love. And she saw it alone, set aside from the love of Frodo. Suddenly, her love for Giliath burst into revelation, lighting her heart in full splendor. It surprised her, and she began to fight it. "No, no! I can _not _love another! I can _not_ forget my Frodo!"

Nienna's song continued, golden beyond words in sound, and she sang with joy, "_**How can you forget that which is part of your being? To have love for one is a gift as is love for another; and together, they will shine all the brighter within your beauty." **_Then Nienna's song softly fell into a whisper, "_**Even**_ _**Frodo saw it."**_

Memory of Frodo's last words then filled Meli's thought. And as they did, she once again felt his blanket of emotion, only now it was his sweet feelings. They were feelings of caring and compassion, feelings of generosity and sacrifice, feelings of sleeping peacefully within her heart. Gently, all of her fears about Frodo passed away and a great peace for him covered her inner soul. But the bitter taste of her shame and guilt still remained, tearing at her heart as a jagged knife, seeking to destroy all peace.

Meli envisioned Giliath's face as she had turned him away, long ago in these very halls. Woefully, she sang her heart with notes of regret and sorrowful ignominy. "I hurt him so. How many times did I run, how many times did I push him away? It was _my_ actions that thrust our people into the calamity of slavery! It was _I_ who brought death and tragedy to our beloved home! I do not deserve this gift. I do not deserve absolution."

The Baggins house was dark and misty though the morning sun had peaked over the horizon. Eowyn woke as a whisper in her ears cried, "Nane". Quickly, she arose with dread that filled her intuition and as though she had been summoned, she made her way to the third floor where her mother slept. But as she opened the bedroom door, a great fog burst through and she could barely see her way. Feeling along the wall, she made it to the bed. In panic, she searched the covers for her mother; but she was not there!

A breeze billowed in through the open balcony door and swirled in fear around her head. Then suddenly a white glow emanated from atop the bureau; it soothed its way through the grey as though it called to her. Eowyn took up her Father's phial as tears began to fall from her cheeks. Its light burst through her fingers as though she held a star and she could feel the urgency that emanated from within it.

Knocks boomed from the front door below. Eowyn jumped as it startled her. Quickly, she made her way down the stairs, half blinded by the mist and half by her tears. But the phial glowed brightly and aided her on her way. She swung open the front door just as her sleepy brother came down the steps behind her.

It was Galmän. Eowyn looked startled and whispered hoarsely, "My Lord!"

"I received a summons," he said in a puzzled tone with brow deep over his eyes. "My Lady, what is it, why do you cry?"

With that, Eowyn's heart burst and she fell into his arms in sobs. Merry came up behind her and said, "It is Nane, isn't it?"

Eowyn could only nod as Galmän stroked her hair and held her tight. But he gave her strength and finally she managed a gurgled reply, "I cannot find her!"

Merry quickly searched the house and woke his Grandparents and brothers. Soon the home and its surrounding land was in a whirl of investigation and it was determined that she had gone out through the balcony and headed west into the woods.

Merry and Pippin ran directly towards the little falls and cave that they had discovered long ago. It had their mother's delight written in its atmosphere and they knew way back then that it was her favorite swimming hole; and a secret place where their parents slipped into time alone.

Bilbo headed up towards the mountain, remembering the graves and wondering if maybe she needed time near his father's grave. His Grandparents ran quickly behind him.

Galmän hurriedly brought Nessa out, mounted her and then helped Eowyn up; holding her tight in warm consolation as Eowyn held the phial up high.

Meleth ran out of the house and cried, "I want to come! I want to help!"

"No, Meleth," said Eowyn in a soothing but urgent voice. "Stay here with the others. She may come back!"

Before Meleth could reply, Nessa broke into a determined run as though she knew what was amiss.

But the fog stifled their attempts and soon all were lost in the forest; all but Nessa who searched by the light of Eärendil. As the white light hit the fog and mingled with all the green of the land, it glowed in soothing jade. One by one, the others made their way towards the light as well, for it was the only way to go, with seeing.

Nienna's mourning song poured deeply into the crevices of the halls. Great warmth filled the grey in heavy sorrows. _**Only forgiveness of yourself is left, Melanna. Giliath now sleeps in tender dreams of your kisses, holding your memory in his heart as one that he takes full responsibility for. And in his dreams he praises the powers that be, in thankfulness for your forgiveness of him, for it enabled him to pardon himself. If you awaken him now, his heart will be ever yours in full atonement.**_ _**Only forgiveness of yourself is left, Melanna. **_

In spite of the wisdom and revelations of Nienna's song, all Meli could see was her guilt and shame. It bit her deeply as it now came to light. Long it was stowed in the depths of her subconscious, hidden by her need and desire to bring Frodo happiness. Mist and grey came to her dreams long ago. A warning of these times and a reminder to deal with the guilt before it was too late. But Meli swallowed its bitterness ever deeper, refusing to acknowledge it, refusing to study it in her painting, attempting to burn it in the pit of her soul. But now she could not deny it; it was cruel and hard in its reality. Slowly she slipped into utter grief, closing her heart to her own self worth and entering a dreamless sleep to carry her away into the void.

The light of the jaded phial fed through the trees and glimmered blue-green off the water. The river still flowed in furious anger and its banks had broadened vastly. Merry's eyes met Eowyn's with a deeper dread than they had ever felt. They skirted the banks for a while until suddenly they saw Gandalf hunched over near the river's edge. Galmän slipped off of Nessa and pulled the little elf down into his arms. He held her close as they approached the wizard.

All eyes were on the blue gown that was held so closely in the arms of the Maia. Their Mother's wet hair fell over his arms in long spilling curls that gently danced with his tears; tears that glistened silver upon her white cheeks.

Their throats tightened, sobs erupted from Linanna's heart and all fell to their knees around her.

Her body became colder as it lay in lifelessness within Gandalf's arms and his Maian, tears continued to drip softly upon her cheeks.

Within the sweetness of a wizard's tears, lies the wisdom of a thousand ages and within that wisdom an immense heart has fed these tears with the compassion and kindness that he learned so long ago from a Vala. And as his love for this little Colter elf, mingled in, it cleansed her of the blindness that kept her from seeing her value within the hearts of the Valar, the Colters, within Giliath; but most of all, within herself. They fed her soul with esteem so warm that it dissolved her shame into the breeze of the forest; and the secrets it beheld passed away, revealing the meaning and impact of Nienna's song.

The spirit of Melanna awakened in the vast grey Halls of Mandos. New peace filled her voice as her song gently began to fill the halls. Its lovely sound softly echoed throughout, covering the walls with glistening amber. A warm hush fell over all of the souls that slept there.

But one soul awakened with such joy that it brought forth a golden light within him!

He approached her very slowly, fearing she would run. His heart pounded heavily within his soul. But as he drew near, her love erupted, let loose for the first time. Suddenly, all time that was lost between them fell away and they were young in heart again!

He gently drew near, fear pulsed through him. He hesitated just for a moment to give her every opportunity in honor of her true desire. And in that moment he savored the feel of her soul as his love stirred within him.

But she did not run, for the burning within her longed for his touch and without thought, she took him, surrounding him and drawing him into her spirit as a soft gasp erupted from her. And by the powers that be, they became as one.

Gandalf raised his head to acknowledge the presence of the family, and just as he did, her eyes opened and a wondrous smile spilled forth!

Melanna awoke to the sun beaming down through a clearing in the leaves. A little Rae of sunshine that streamed in touched her blue gown; she brought warmth into Meli's cold soul and kissed the tip of her nose. Meli's eyes became misty with happiness as she sat up. Bright and clear they were and her cheeks blossomed with a rosy glow. Softly Gandalf stroked her cheek as he laughed in gentle glee. Each member of her family leaned down to kiss her; some took her hands and kissed them too. Sweet scents of the flowers and the trees awoke around them as the fog lifted and the waters settled down to crystal glass.

Meli smiled brightly and stroked Gandalf's cheek in return. Then she arose with a peace in her heart that she had not known for a long time. She took each of her children and held them tightly with whispers of love. Then she took her parents into her arms and said, "I am so sorry, Nane…Adar. I love you so!"

"Shhh," was all they could say.

Then suddenly, there he was; standing upon the soft green mosses of Aman, under a birch tree a few yards away -Giliath, strong and luminous -his dark hair gently swaying in the morning breeze, as his brown eyes, deep and mellow, gaped at her in astonishment!

Meli approached him and he took her in tight embrace; stroking her hair and gently cupping her face. She laid her lips upon his with earnest love and he felt her life pour into him. It was a gift filling him in vast splendor and it mattered not that she had belonged to another. Peace he felt and gratitude that she had someone who took care of her while he was away. He hungrily kissed her in return and held her tight against his heart. A great smile burst from his face and he picked her up and twirled her around!

Nary an eye was dry amid this family as they looked on. A sweet peace had settled upon every heart in acceptance as if they all knew, all that had come to pass. And every one of them would come to love him as they saw the true Giliath emerge from within; Meli's Giliath as she saw long ago, hidden deep behind his smile.

The family gathered round them in laughter; even Old Nessa ambled over and knelt down for Meli with a whinny and a snort. The Little Colter Elf climbed up and with laughter, stroked her mane as Giliath mounted behind her, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"Let's go home," said Geren.

Off they went -a wizard and a great entourage of little ones, singing high into the trees all the way home.

And Meli sang loudest as she nestled sweetly within the arms of love, for she knew that now Frodo slept in peace, always and forever within her heart.

The End

_Author's note: What an experience it has been, writing this story over the past two years. Whether it is good or not, I cannot tell you in words how much it has impacted my life, the way I feel about myself and the depths of my love for Tolkien's works. _

_I'd like to thank my reviewers for the wonderful words that you gave me along the way. It fed my soul! hugs And good or bad, I'd truly like to know what the rest of my readers think about my story. I am planning to continue with the side story of Mithrellas (a much more mature tale) and I would appreciate your input to guide me. _

_Once again, I'd like to thank my awesome editor, __**Ithildiel Noldoran of 'warofthering dot net'**__ (chapters 9 – 39). She has put so much of her own life on hold to read and re-read my chapters; to make sure that my comas are positioned in the right place and that my grammar is not too embarrassing. And then every once in a while, her little touch of color can be seen within the words. But most of all, It was her inspiration that so delighted me that it motivated me to embellish on certain things, giving the story more body and detail._

_I'd also like to thank, __**Lady Galadriel of 'warofthering dot net'**__ (editor for chapters 1 – 8). It was her encouragement that gave me the confidence to share and to see this through. I am forever indebted to her for this._

_**Inspirations:**_

_Meli – A shy little elf I knew as a child; Colter was her name and she sang at my church with a velvety voice and the deepest dimples you ever saw. Meli's voice was also inspired by Enya and Charlotte Church._

_Sammy – Music was his soul! My inspirations that developed his personality came from songs by George Harrison, Paul McCartney, Lingalad featuring Giuseppe Festa and guitar classics such as 'Malagueña' and 'Canon and Gigue'._

_Nienna -was inspired by the lovely voices of Renée Fleming and Annie Lennox._

_Rae - __**'A little Rae of sunshine that streamed in…and kissed the tip of her nose' (chapter 39); **__My daughter, for she is __my__ sunshine._

_The artists that inspired my writings were; John Howe, Ebe Kastein and of course the wondrous JRR Tolkien._


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